


Damage x Control

by brocon-the-destroyer (brocon)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Birthday Sex, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Family, Humor, Incest, M/M, Multi, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Vacation, Zoldyck Family - Freeform, everyone dtf killua, necrophilia mention, no established relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brocon/pseuds/brocon-the-destroyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killua hasn't lived at home for years, but he still goes with his family on their annual week long vacation. This year it takes place on his birthday, at his favorite location, and with his best friend. But it's harder to keep Gon away from the still-buried realities of his past and complicated relationship with his family when they're affronted by overbearing Brother Dearest and Fucky the Magician. Who keeps letting Hisoka come on these vacations every year, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Shorts

**Author's Note:**

> Alluka is a boy in this fic. My headcanon is that he and Kalluto's cross-dressing stemmed from Kikyo wanting a daughter, but that they both genuinely enjoy feminine clothing. So they wear it. They are both adorable and don't need to be girls to be cute and wear feminine clothing. It's my headcanon, and you can hate me or don't read it, I don't care. Don't be petty. These are fictional characters. Any comments bitching about it will be deleted. Please read my full explanation here (http://brocon-the-destroyer.tumblr.com/post/122606726908/why-do-you-misgender-alluka-in-your-fic-over-on) if you still cannot accept this or are genuinely curious. :)

“Alright, Gon, I have to give you the rules before we get there. Don’t ask any questions until I’m done. The first, and most important, rule is: no one is allowed to kill anyone. This includes major fighting, using nen, and any bloodshed.”

Gon nodded firmly, showing Killua that his full attention was on learning all of the ins and outs of this trip. Killua had nearly left him behind intentionally. So Gon wasn’t about to mess this chance up and make a fool out of himself—or worse, embarrass Killua. He swung his feet and hit the back of the seat in front of him on accident. He wasn’t used to wearing such light shoes. Killua didn’t seem bothered by it as he continued.

“Second rule is: no working, including phone calls and text messages having to do with work. This is supposed to be entirely for fun.” Even as he said that, Killua’s face looked grave. Not at all like he was prepared to go have fun. Gon could barely keep himself contained—he had enough excitement for the both of them. “Third rule is: everyone has to be in plainclothes. Nothing crazy. Nothing that will grab the attention of the locals.”

Ah, so that was why he had to buy an entirely new outfit. He hadn’t thought his old clothes were very flashy, but they were a kind of uniform, and he had worn them in a lot of fights. He wouldn’t complain, but his new clothes felt too light, like he had nothing at all on. Or like the shorts he had on could have easily been boxers. He looked strange in red shorts.

“Fourth rule: no one is allowed to call my brother fat. Or pig.”                        

“Wha—”

“No questions, remember? That’s where the rule originated, but now the situational rules have extended to: no one but me can talk about my Hunter’s license. No one but Kalluto can talk about The Phantom Troupe. _No one_ is allowed to talk about Alluka’s confinement. This rule also extends to all general political talk and touchy subjects that would lead to bloodshed.” These rules obviously had a steep history of trial and error. If Gon asked questions, the explanations would be long stories.

“Fifth rule: every son of Zoldyck is allowed to bring one friend or acquaintance. All of the above rules also apply to said guest. Various other rules apply to the guest as well, including but not limited to: prohibition of revealing the true identity of the Zoldyck family, or doing anything to endanger the anonymity of the Zoldyck family. They are barred from travelling beyond 5 miles of the Zoldyck family, unless given prior permissions, or in the case of an emergency.”

Gon’s head was spinning. It was becoming increasingly hard to focus on every specific, little detail. He wouldn’t do anything bad or leave Killua’s side, for even a second, as long as he didn’t have to keep listening to these rules.

“Sixth rule—” Killua stopped, seeing his friend’s eyes wandering and his fingers tapping the seat next to him. “Alright, alright. I’ll just warn you if you come close to breaking a rule. It’s bad enough I have to listen to them every year, let alone repeating them back to someone!”

“I’m saved!” Gon said as he slouched and propped his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him. “Can I ask questions now?”

“I’d rather you didn’t, but go ahead.”

Gon wasn’t about to give up his chance, even if Killua would rather he didn’t. “Am I the first friend you’ve had come with you?”

“You’re my first guest, too. If someone doesn’t bring a guest, it makes room to bring more butlers though, so Canary has been able to come a few times. She was another kid for us to play with without taking the risk on a stranger. But she and Gotoh won’t be there this year. We—” he stopped, clearing his throat lightly, “ _they_ ’re having a hard time finding help that they trust to stay behind and run the estate. It’s a shame, since there was room for them this year too.” _Since there was no way Milluki was bringing anyone this year either_. Killua had learned to have mental jabs at every brother to get it out of his system before the trip officially started. And kick their faces in a few times too—at least the older ones.

“Then WHY didn’t you want to take me??” Gon blurted out much louder than he had intended. The driver swerved a bit, and hastily apologized.

Killua still regretted that Gon was coming along, and him finding out had been an accident.

The department store had been packed, and it was possibly the busiest day of the year—or maybe it was normally like this. He had no clue. Killua didn’t do his own shopping if he could help it. But he had forgotten to unblock Illumi’s number before the vacation like he usually did, and the butlers had already gone shopping with every clothing order but his.

The day of the family trip he remembered that he had nothing to wear. So he had dragged Gon along to share his pain under the guise of, “getting you a new outfit! My treat!”

Even he had to admit he was a complete and utter jackass.

Gon hadn’t exactly been thrilled with the prospect, but he wouldn’t have denied going with Killua somewhere, even if he hadn’t wanted a new outfit at all. They had gotten to the department store fairly early, but Killua kept making impromptu stops at every one of his favorite stores. He hated clothes shopping on time constraints—and in his hasty frustration, he ended up buying quite a few outfits that were pretty risky for him, like khaki shorts with his initials on the butt pocket. The initials were actually the brand name; Gon had pointed them out excitedly, causing Killua to throw them in the cart.

Only after holding the receipt in hand did Killua realize how tacky they actually were. But at least he had something to show in the way of new clothes for the trip. He could easily buy more clothes once he got there, but he didn’t want Illumi to call him unprepared and insist, again, that he unblock his number.

Killua had acquired four shopping bags worth of clothes: new shorts, sandals, a floral print skinny tie (another impulse buy; he didn’t even like wearing ties), some socks with a Panda Frog pattern (again, a choice he wouldn’t have made if not for Gon’s enthusiasm), and a new pair of swim trunks. Then he led them into a more modest store for Gon’s outfit. Gon didn’t like shopping for clothes at places that carried designer brands; he said that the rationale for how someone paid millions of Jenny for a pair of jeans distracted him from his own shopping.

With the crowds swarming like drunken flies and Gon trying on a pair of red shorts, they never saw the attack coming. The two of them had been stuck in a loop of:

“Red looks too weird on me.”

“They look fine, will you please just take them off and put them in the cart?”

“Killua, red looks _really_ weird on me.”

“You wear the same outfit all of the time, of course you think that.”

“No, I think, maybe…they just look weird on me.”

Until the loop was broken by a voice. “Will you please just take them off? ♥”

Without having registered the sentence, Killua sent a startled fist in the direction of whoever had been able to sneak up on them. He hoped it wasn’t someone he could kill with one punch.

Of course, it turned out to be Hisoka. Killua regretted not trusting his instincts to redirect the punch right before it collided with a set of abs. Instead he hit air, a gust from the force causing a clothing rack to fall over, and he nearly fell to the floor.

Killua barely had time to regain his balance when Hisoka said exactly what he hadn’t wanted him to say.

“Are you two shopping for the vacation too?” His words were upbeat, happy, and laden with manipulative intent. Killua would have only needed a second more of his perverted quips—just enough time to give him a chance to think of a way to get himself of out dangerous territory—but Hisoka was one flamboyant step ahead of him, as always.

Killua couldn’t say anything that wouldn’t make him look like a panicking child.

“What vacation?” Gon looked directly at Killua, not asking the question to Hisoka at all. Maybe Killua’s own subtle reactions had betrayed him, maybe Gon was just that sharp—but he knew Hisoka wasn’t lying.

“Oh, how cruel, Killua! You mean you didn’t invite your best friend? Don’t tell me you’re taking a girl? _Oooh_ your brother will be _furious_! ♣”

The rest of the hour had been filled with quickly checking out what clothes they had managed to get, Killua doing as much damage control as possible, and showing Gon to the car that would chauffeur them. God forbid, but this was a good indicator of what the rest of the week would entail—damage control.

It all had happened so fast. The weight of Gon feeling betrayed was only outdone by Killua’s dread. A dead weight crushing him deeper into the hard place he had been corned into.

 

“Hisoka will be there.”

“Wait, what?”

“Hisoka invites himself, as Illumi’s guest, every year. Without fail.” And Illumi, for some incomprehensible reason, had never tried to stop him. He didn’t seem to enjoy Hisoka’s company any more than anyone else—possibly even less than everyone else—but he never said anything. Maybe they had some kind of understanding. Or maybe Illumi didn’t give a fuck.

“Well, yeah, Hisoka’s dangerous and creepy.” Gon said, “but you said there’s no fighting on this trip, so why didn’t you invite me?”

Killua should have given Gon a question limit. But that opportunity had passed, and Killua couldn’t exactly come right out and say that Hisoka was a legitimate pervert with a very strong, extremely sordid desire for Gon. Specifically Gon. Even if he chose to spill everything he knew, Gon wouldn’t take it seriously enough to do more good than harm in telling him.

What Gon, and everyone else outside of the Zoldyck family, had witnessed up until that point was merely a kind of banter stemming from Hisoka’s desire to make others uncomfortable. His comments, his public moaning, and his theatrics—they were laced with real desires, but with no true effort put into them. Nothing close to reflecting Hisoka’s true perverse nature.

What Killua had seen in years passed was the real Hisoka. The Hisoka he couldn’t figure out how to begin telling anyone about—the side of Hisoka you couldn’t casually joke about.

Last year, during the vacation, Killua had gone to Hisoka and Illumi’s hotel room to tell them the family was ready to leave for dinner. Illumi answered the door, nodded, and left the door wide open as he retreated back in. Killua was about to walk away, but Hisoka called his name.

Killua regretted it instantly. Hisoka was lounging against one of the beds in running shorts, with clearly no underwear on of any kind, and said, “you’re just in time for my story, I was telling Illumi—” Illumi was sitting at the small vanity, putting bobby pins in his hair to keep it in a high bun. He was ignoring Hisoka, as always, but doing nothing to stop Killua from seeing the man sport a full erection in next to no clothing.

“He was probably about 5’5’’ and not exactly what I would call a looker, but had a lean body that wasn’t too masculine. He had black hair, _and oh_ , he had that natural spike to it, intensified by being gelled.” He splayed his fingers and boastfully smiled at Killua.

Killua had apparently walked into the room as he was talking about his lays. _What shit luck in timing_. He turned to leave, but Hisoka’s voice became rougher and more pointed towards him.

“That familiar silhouette of spiky hair and those short shorts were enough to make me tear his clothes off right there in that disgusting alley.” He let out an uneven breath and Killua froze in place. “I told him I was going to call him Gon. Not a question, but an honor.”

“You’re not going to get a rise out of me.” Killua responded, squinting hard at his brother’s performing idiot.

But Hisoka said nothing in response. His eyes rolled back into his head and never returned—he wasn’t searching Killua for a reaction. It was as though it were all genuine. He dug his nails into the post of the bed, peeling off strips of curled wood as if his fingers still remembered being in flesh. “He looked back towards the bar like he was reconsidering, even though I was already in him. As if he didn’t consider it an honor to be my Gon for the evening.” He gave a thoughtful _hmm_ and ran a hand across his abdomen.

Killua’s eyes were fixed on the patterns in the carpet; he was trying not to imagine the vivid world in which Hisoka moaned Gon’s name into a dilapidated alley outside of a bar. He could feel Illumi’s eyes on him now, and if he ran, he would look weak.

If any of his _naughty little habits_ protested to their new title, Hisoka said in a shaky voice, he murdered them—strangled, stabbed, disemboweled—and continued to sodomize their corpse without stopping. “The hair on his battered corpse was ruined.” Hisoka was certainly not talking to Illumi anymore. Would he have bothered getting so graphic with Illumi as his audience? Hisoka made a disappointed sigh that was probably identical to the one he had made during the act.

Killua felt bile rise and burn the back of his throat.

“I splashed some wasted blood through his hair and transformed him into An Altar of Gon.” He had coined a term for it. “Only the sweet, real Gon can get away with being withholding from me. A pity, really. No one would have had to die if he took me seriously.” There had been others. How many bloodied men had died after telling this strange man not to call them ‘Gon’?

Graphic gestures tumbled from his body and fingers, eyes nearly closed, getting off from his own recollection. Killua couldn’t stop thinking what Gon’s reaction would be if he found out about those poor dead men. “Now, if I had the genuine apple in the palm of my hands—”

Technically, this violated no family vacation rules. Only he and Illumi had been around to hear it anyway; it was controversial enough and probably should have been snuffed out by Illumi, but that didn’t happen. Illumi never stopped watching Killua, face impassive and relaxed, looking for some kind of response he could take advantage of. A moment where he could jump in and ‘save’ Killua from Hisoka’s sick fantasies; as soon as Killua allowed himself to look distressed, he would shut Hisoka up, but not a second before. Without losing his cool, Killua couldn’t claim that it was a topic of controversy to be banned, but he refused to give the two of them the satisfaction of seeing him panicking and ill.

Killua had kept a straight face until he managed slip out. He promptly threw up.

 

“When my brother and Hisoka are together, they’re intolerable.” Killua tried.

“But—”

“Let me finish,” Killua quickly thought of an addition, “I was, uh, afraid they’d say something embarrassing about me. Show you baby photos, things like that. Hisoka’s been going on these trips with us for years, he’s got some bad blackmail material.”

Gon thought about this hard, his smile gradually growing back. “Oh, Killua. You’re really sensitive. Were you a fat baby or something?”

“Get that word out of your system before we get there!” Killua smiled at Gon’s laughter, trying to control his back-flipping guts.

They slept in the car, woke up, ate lunch, and stopped so Gon could pee. It was another hour before they stopped again, boarding an airship. They had missed the private jet that the rest of the family had taken because Gon kept trying to convince the cashier to scan the red shorts while he still had them on. Had Hisoka also missed the jet? Killua was just thankful that the three of them weren’t stuck travelling together.

Come to think of it, the original plan had been for Killua to go back to Kookuroo Mountain and sit next to Alluka on the jet. This was Alluka’s first family vacation since he was deemed to have a significantly lower threat level when Killua was around. He and Killua had been training hard to control his other half, and they had at least convinced the wish-granter not to come out when Killua wasn’t around.

Alluka had been so excited to go—and for them to spend the whole trip together. Now Gon had shown up and Killua wouldn’t be sitting with him on the flight over. He’d have to apologize like crazy to his favorite brother and buy him a new doll. Even if it was Killua’s birthday, Alluka wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

They had a full dinner on the airship, and Gon asked between mouthfuls where they were going for vacation this year. Killua sighed and calmly explained that Gon should have listened to the rest of the rules. Gon laughed in that way that made Killua want to either smother him or give him whatever he wanted. There was no convenient way to manage the prior, so Killua gave up and passed him another helping of food that he didn’t ask for. Gon accepted with a stupid grin.

“We’re going to Zanzan Island. It’s small—only a bit bigger than Whale Island—and known for its attractions. Huge theme park, water park, shopping district, nen performances, concerts—the whole island is a blast! We alternate who chooses each year going in order from oldest to youngest. This year is my choice, since it’s during my birthday. The date we go changes too. We usually plan it on the birthday of whoever it is that chooses that year. I chose Zanzan last time on my turn too, but I was too young to really enjoy everything. Going after Milluki helps, since no one will complain once they compare it to last year!”

Gon looked like he was either going to choke or cry.

“I forgot it was your birthday tomorrow, Killua, I’m sorry! I didn’t bring a present for you!”

“Don’t worry about it. None of my brothers brought presents either. We usually just go shopping wherever we’re vacationing. It’s easier that way, and the stuff is different than what you’ll find in shops back home.” Killua’s nose wrinkled in disgust, “I had to buy a figure of a pink-haired woman in a bikini last year. Huge boobs. Really expensive. But it keeps our parents from lecturing us about being nice to each other for the rest of the year.”

“Having brothers seems so interesting.”

“That’s one word for it, I guess.”

 

The airship ride went quickly, since they no longer riding in a cramped car, and finally landed. Stepping off the airship, Gon could see all seven members of the Zoldyck family waiting for them at the end of the runway. Surreal and intimidating couldn’t begin to cover it. Standing among them were the butlers and Hisoka—it was like they were all powerful fighters waiting to start a tournament.

Hisoka blew kisses in Gon’s direction, then leaned over and whispered something into Illumi’s ear with an expression Gon couldn’t read. Illumi’s face remained as unchanged as always, but he shifted his gaze from Killua to Gon; Hisoka went back to flinging dramatic hand gestures as though he had never stopped.

Gon hadn’t seen the two of them together in one place since the Hunter Exam, but the way they shared a space repelled others from their bubble. They couldn’t be called friends. Killua had corrected him on that—as many times as Illumi had corrected Killua on that—as many times as Hisoka had insisted that they were. Gon didn’t know what they were, but their presence as a whole was twice as deadly and eerily synchronized. By the time Gon glanced back at Illumi, his dark eyes were following Killua again.

Beyond the group towered a large hotel—a hybrid-looking building that managed to look both industrial and rustic. Steam rose behind it, and Gon let out a sudden yell, “Killua, this is a _hot spring_!”

Startled enough to slow his pace, Killua walked next to Gon and gave a genuine smile. His stomach had settled quite a bit from earlier just from seeing how excited Gon was. “I forgot to mention, we always stay at this hotel when we visit Zanzan. It sits on a hot spring, and it’s the best after being on theme park rides all day.”

“Hello, Gon. I’m Killua’s father, Silva.” The towering man, dressed in sandals and a loose white t-shirt, held out a hand for Gon to shake. Killua’s face twisted in pain. It was surreal and awkward to hear his dad say Gon’s name like that—the worst kind of forced formality. His old man looked just as uncomfortable with his hand extended.

Killua saved himself the second-hand embarrassment by stepping between the two of them and knocking the enormous hand away. “Thanks, Dad. I’ve got it covered. Gon, this huge guy’s my dad. The lady is my mom. You’ve seen grandpa before, but you’ve met Alluka and Illumi.” Alluka made the smallest wave to Gon, showing off his pink nails. “The f—my other older brother is Milluki. The one in the kimono is Kalluto.” Killua recovered with a deep breath.

Gon waved, opening his mouth to say hello to everyone, but Killua interrupted him. “Can we just get inside now?” Without waiting, Killua pivoted on one foot and briskly made for the hotel.

Gon was still staring at those he didn’t know, trying to match their names up with the stories Killua had told about them in the past. Killua seemed fidgety—being surrounded by his family was putting him on edge. It was a big family; Gon couldn’t exactly say he understood the feeling.

The boy having been introduced to him as Kalluto stared him down a few moments longer than the rest of them. He had heard Kalluto’s name before, but Killua had inadvertently left out the part about his long eyelashes and kimono. All of Killua’s brothers were intimidatingly pretty. Well, almost all of them.

Everyone took the cue and followed Killua, leaving Gon to straggle behind with his thoughts. He wondered if Killua was always so bossy with his family, or if it was because of his birthday. He didn’t seem like the type to change his attitude over a birthday. Gon’s legs felt weak from sitting so long, and the tennis shoes weren’t helping—he trailed behind everyone.

Except Hisoka. Hisoka had dropped from the group to keep pace with him. “It was rude of Killua to leave me out.”

“I know you already.” Gon said simply. He watched Illumi, who kept whipping his hair around to glance back at Hisoka—obviously aware of his distance from him. He seemed to take the rule of not leaving his guest very strictly.

“Not intimately enough for my liking, though. ♦”

Gon groaned. The trip had been too long for him to become Hisoka’s boredom alleviant.

“And I think the red shorts look lovely on you! ♥”

Gon didn’t bother to respond. He began a half-jog and left Hisoka behind.

On second thought, he dropped back again. “Hisoka, do you have any baby pictures of Killua?”

“Oh? I’d die to know where this question came from. But no, I’m afraid I don’t. Are you making an offer? I do hope you’ll give me a fair deal.”

Gon shook his head. “No, I don’t have anything like that either. He thought you might though. He’ll be glad to know you don’t have blackmail on him after all. See ya!” And with that, he ran to catch up to Killua at the hotel doors.

“I didn’t say I didn’t have any _blackmail_. You really should finish conversations when you start them, rude boy. ♠”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, I do not use Japanese terms or honorifics. It's a challenge for me, especially with the connotations present in familial addressing, but I intend to remain consistent and not interrupt the flow with cherry-picked Japanese. I hope I pull it off well.


	2. City Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm building momentum and establishing point of view with this chapter, so I apologize for how short it is. The next one will be longer, guys (and actually have Illukillu content)! This one still has a bit of Gon's POV, but after this I switch pretty heavily to Killua's just to get a little more consistency.

The hotel rooms were larger than those at Heaven’s Area—more like suites, really—with a small kitchen, and a living room designated by clever furniture arrangement. The jarringly red sectional sofa, matching settee, and low-standing oval coffee table were in a semi-circular arrangement, pointing towards a flat screen television. The mounted television’s wall was connected to the most stunning thing about the room—a wall that, from floor to ceiling, was an expansive window. The view from the seventh floor had a huge, and no doubt calculated, impact on the aesthetic design. The window and magnificent view, were humbled by how expensive everything felt, as if it were only natural to have such elegance in a hotel room.

Wanting nothing more to run to the window for the view, Gon had to awkwardly wrangle his small luggage away from one of the butlers before they unpacked his things for him. Gon didn’t like anyone put his things away except Aunt Mito. Another butler was already arranging Killua’s clothing into a dresser and placing his favorite foods into the kitchen’s cabinets. Killua was already at the window, ignoring his butlers doing their unspoken duties.

“No thank you.” Gon heard himself saying for the third time. A bit of worry nagged at Gon that he was being rude—Aunt Mito had raised him to be stubbornly self-reliant, but definitely not rude. By the time he realized his voice had started getting testy, the butler was already gone after bowing and apologizing. Gon’s bag felt heavier with guilt. He made a mental note to find out his name and apologize later.

Gon wondered who else would be in their room—he couldn’t imagine seeing any other Zoldyck in pajamas, pulling covers up to their chin, or dropping their guard. Did Zoldycks sleep with their eyes open?

Yes, Gon decided that, at the very least, Illumi did. His eyes probably had a film over them like a fish. Or a second eyelid like a lizard. Slowly turning to look at Illumi’s eyes—not really thinking it would be less weird to just be casual—he saw the group of Zoldycks already halfway down the hall. Illumi and Hisoka entered the room next to theirs.

He should have known the amenities of this vacation would be one overkill after another. The Zoldycks were a family built on overkills. That was their style in work and life—go big or go home, as it were.

Gon had thought, the first time he saw Heaven’s Arena, that it was the grandest place he would ever see; then he had gotten to stay there, ascend to higher levels, sleep in king-sized beds, and train in that huge indoor space. At the time, it had been mind-blowing. He had felt like a hick for never realizing such luxuries existed, especially next to Killua, who had seen and done it all before.

Then he had seen the Zoldyck estate. Oddly enough, at the time, he thought nothing of it, almost like it wasn’t a real place. Especially under the circumstances, it had been just like a final level in a video game. He hadn’t seen where the family lived or what kind of lifestyle they were accustomed to. But when it was over and they were able to leave with Killua, it was gone from Gon’s mind, like he had dreamt of a strange place and escaped it just before waking up.

But now, getting to see his larger-than-life family members up close along, and all of the things Killua was accustomed to having, these rooms were forcing him to face it. It was all sinking in. And these were only their vacation accommodations—nothing close to how they lived their daily lives up on that mountain.

He didn’t feel like a hick. These Zoldycks were just on a completely different, incomprehensible level.

He’d just roll with whatever came his way, as usual.

The butler passed by him and bowed before leaving. Gon yelled after him, “thank you!!” and the man stopped down the hall, turned around, and bowed again.

“It’s better not to do that.” Killua said, “you will get stuck in a politeness loop.”

Gon made an exaggerated sigh, coming to stand next to Killua in front of the large window. “I’m _still_ not used to—”

His words stopped instantly, like someone had hit the pause button. His small bag hit the floor.

“Since there’s steam from the hot spring on the other side, these huge windows are only in the half of the rooms that are facing the city. They’re harder to get, but they’re worth it!” _Since Illumi insisted that, when possible, he not do without a hot spring of some kind since he had become accustomed to the one on Kookuroo Mountain_ , Killua decided not to mention. Gon still didn’t know they had a hot spring back home—it was best not to bring it up and risk making himself look like more of a spoiled rich kid.

Killua glanced over to Gon to see if he was impressed, but didn’t expect such a huge, raw smile. His mouth had fallen open in awe, his teeth visible from how intensely he smiled. The rest of Killua’s explanation was lost in the recesses of his tightening throat.

Gon’s face was lit by the natural orange light of the setting sun, and then by the pale yellows of the city lights coming on. How long had he been staring at Gon staring at the city? Gon hadn’t made any movement, so Killua was also frozen. He’d been an idiot for trying to keep Gon away. Killua would deal with anything that came along, for Gon’s sake. Gon deserved this—he enjoyed this stuff way more than he did.

Killua failed to look away before Gon turned to face him, and his face felt hot. “It’s amazing, Killua.”

He grasped at any bit of composure he hadn’t tossed out the giant window. “Yeah. Uh, if you look closely, that way,” he pointed so that Gon would stop looking at him, “you can see the huge roller coaster of the theme park! See those red and blue lights?”

“I see it!”

“We’ll ride it before the week is out! So why don’t we put your stuff away, and we’ll order room service and play video games.”

A knock came at the door. Killua opened it, and was forced to the floor by a small and unexpected body. Alluka buried his face into Killua’s neck and let out a contented sigh before yanking on a fistful of white hair. When Killua let out a shocked _hey!_ Alluka said, “ _that’s_ for not sitting with me on the plane!”

He sat up and adamantly refused to get up off Killua’s stomach, pink pajama gown hiked up above his knees to reveal socks with small bells on them. He waved to Gon sweetly, but continued to apply pressure to Killua’s ribs with his knees. “Pain is the only way this dummy learns, Gon!” He said happily. “Remember that!”

“It was kind of my fault that he couldn’t ride with you, Alluka.” Gon rustled his hair and heard the bells jingle a bit louder.

“No, it’s not! He should have just invited you in the first place. That’s on him!”

_Oh here we go again._

“I suppose that’s true. But he was worried that Hisoka would show me bad baby pictures of him!”

A small painted nail touched his lips thoughtfully. “Hmm…bad baby pictures? Like bathtub pictures?”

“I would hope Hisoka doesn’t have any of those.”

“Could you get off me—”

“He doesn’t, but I do!”

“Wait, _what_?”

“Where do you think they store all of our old photos and other personal family mementos? In the most guarded room in the manor! And they wanted to give me something to do, I guess. But oh, I shouldn’t really talk about that. Let’s just say that Killua has the palest butt I’ve ever seen. It’s _blinding_.” He laughed and finally jumped up with a jingle. His hair was pushed back with a more practical hairband so his entire face was visible, and his nose wrinkled when he smiled.

Gon was impressed. “I want to see!”

Killua pushed himself up, but knew he was speaking to walls at this point. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“You’ll have to trade me some other valuable Killua-related goods or information.” Alluka said.

“I can probably find something…let’s see…”

Killua wasn’t about to idly sit on the floor and let them exchange secrets above his head. “Shouldn’t you get back to Kalluto? You left him alone in the room, and—“

“Don’t try and get rid of me again, brother!” Alluka winked at Gon and stuffed his hands in his gown pockets. “We’ll have this discussion later so he doesn’t try to interfere. Besides, Kalluto is sleeping already. He wanted me to turn in early too, but I told him I wasn’t tired, and that I had to give you a piece of my mind first.” Strolling over to the bed, he flopped down face-first before rolling over and looking at the ceiling, “while I’m here, we should totally play some games!”

He and Killua were definitely brothers.

“We were just about to order room service and crack open some old, awful games he found under his bed,” Gon said, grabbing the menu from the bedside stand. “You should join us! Killua, come over and make the room service call.”

Killua took the phone and shot Gon a look for shouting orders so nonchalantly. But that was Alluka’s influence, he supposed. When the two of them got together it was either time to pick on Killua mercilessly, or fall asleep with both of them holding Killua’s arms. There wasn’t much of an in between, but at least they got along well. That was more than he could say for the compatibility of Gon and any of his other family members.

They were only a pizza and two video games in when Alluka slumped against his arm, drooling and falling into his lap—a pink lump of dead weight. Not tired at all, he had said. But Killua smiled and lifted the boy with ease, carrying him back to his room with Kalluto. He almost woke him up to make him brush his teeth, but was afraid that Alluka would fight sleep again and try to come back into their room. So he tucked him into bed, glancing in Kalluto’s direction briefly before inching the door shut.

By the time he got back to his and Gon’s room, Gon had opened a package of cookies and made a nest of blankets on the floor. He waved Killua over and said, “wow, this game really sucks!”

They hadn’t been so relaxed in a long time. It hadn’t been obvious until now how they had been drifting—going from one place to the next, one goal to the next—always working towards something, saving towards something, training for something. Now there was nothing to do but order as much food as they wanted and lounge around in tank tops and boxers. With so many Zoldycks around, there was no concern for an external attack. Killua was a bit nervous—maybe it was too careless from them to strip down and drop their guard entirely. But after getting the food, the room door was tightly locked.

His stupid brother or Hisoka wouldn’t try anything so soon. They knew better than to test the boundaries of the rules until the last stretch of the week. Besides, they were probably busy fucking.

Why had he just thought about that?

Ugh. He had thought it before in passing, but never put any consideration into it. Even a year ago—standing in the doorway to their room, Hisoka damaging the furniture and ejaculating in his pants—Killua hadn’t considered it legitimately. Illumi hadn’t expended the effort to even look surprised. He’d definitely seen Hisoka in that state before, but Killua had pushed it from his mind as more of his brother’s inappropriate indifference.

But that indifference easily meant a lot more than he had given it credit for. In only a year, starting with Illumi’s disobedience to their parents in the Alluka situation, the importance of what Illumi chose to remain indifferent to had become significant. He wasn’t simply an extension of their parents after that. There was the very real, almost certain, chance that Hisoka and Illumi had sex. Had sex in Illumi’s room back home. Had sex on this vacation just a few rooms away from the rest of the family. It was such a perturbing thought that Killua couldn’t seem to let it go.

Damn puberty.

He couldn’t imagine his brother having sex. And not just in the way that he couldn’t imagine Milluki having sex. Milluki was physically undesirable, and obnoxious, _and_ his brother—even without his obsession for anime women and never leaving the house, Killua couldn’t imagine him having sex. But he could objectively acknowledge the possibility of Milluki being an adult who would do something like that someday with someone. It wasn’t that strange under that context, although it was still gross.

But Illumi was, well, considerably the opposite of how he thought of Milluki. Illumi was, by all objective views—not bad looking, physically. He was well-groomed (maybe a little too much) and physically fit. But his personality made Killua unable to acknowledge that he was an adult who could have sex. It required too much intimacy, passion, and ability to drop your pride. He couldn’t imagine Illumi naked for the purpose of exposing himself to someone. His brother was all about pride, composure, and efficiency.

He would never compromise for anything Hisoka wanted him to do, and Hisoka certainly didn’t seem like the type to drop all passion for a boring, mutually-beneficial release with as little humiliation as possible. He was not a lights-off type of guy.

But there was little possibility that they hadn’t done anything at all. The man his brother was frequently sharing rooms with was _Hisoka_ —who was constantly flirting with his brother, and was a sexually-fueled being who had a love for the most powerful and beautiful men—or boys.

Unless Hisoka’s flirting with Illumi was only a front that never went deeper. Killua had never seen Hisoka talk or reveal any disposition towards Illumi similar to the talk about his Gon Altars. But if it were a farce, Hisoka would surely get bored of Illumi’s indifference and drop the act. There wasn’t much in it for him, was there?

Hisoka was incorrigible. Illumi couldn’t have driven off every single advance Hisoka had, no doubt, endlessly attempted. They couldn’t co-inhabit a space without having worked something out. But there was just no way—how would his brother ever let that clown do things to him—

“Killua? Are you alright?”

Killua snapped out of his (going way too far) train of thought in time for Gon to take a handful of chips and smash them against Killua’s mouth. They crumbled everywhere, falling into the neckline of Killua’s tank top, while Gon’s laughter rang in his ear. Killua jumped up and tried to shake the crumbs out of his clothes, but Gon laughed harder at his struggle. Killua shoved him over, laughter eventually doubling them both over, right into a pile of games on the floor. The walls were thick, unlike the motels they’d used in the past, and they didn’t have to worry about controlling their volume. It felt good to let loose.

“We’d better get to bed. We’ll probably head into town pretty early so everyone can scramble to buy me gifts.” Killua said. His stomach had started to ache from all of the junk food. He was exhausted, which also made his stomach worse. He flopped down on one of the two full-sized beds, inching up towards the pillows until he was securely wrapped in blankets.

“I think I can still feel some chip crumbs in my shirt, you jerk.” Killua said, loud enough so Gon could hear him from the other bed. Gon laughed from the spot next to him. Killua opened his eyes to see the lights had already been shut off.

“Killua,” Gon beat him to the punch, “the other bed is all the way across the room. And it’s huge, empty, and cold. You don’t mind, right? I can’t handle a bunch of empty space like this. Besides, this one is closest to the window, and I want to look at the view as I’m falling asleep!”

Killua definitely minded. It was hard for him to process what this meant, or if they were too old for this by now, especially when it was entirely unnecessary. But he was too tired for his brain to process any of this. He didn’t care as much as he should—he didn’t even have the energy to wonder if he was overthinking it. Instead, he settled for: “goodnight, Gon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the overwhelming support on my first chapter! I apologize that it took me two weeks to get this new chapter up. I went to a convention and caught a severe cold that I'm still trying to get over! I will make sure all of you lovely people do not have to wait that long for chapter three!


	3. Illumi's Nose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that contains sexual content between a minor and his brother. If you're not into that, I'm not entirely sure what you're doing here, but you've been warned.

Killua woke up with sunlight beaming down on his face. He remembered Gon falling asleep next to him, and realized simultaneously that he had morning wood. Skin crawling in fear, he looked over to make sure Gon was still fast asleep. At least he had that natural advantage to aid him through the irritations of puberty—he almost always woke up before Gon. He could still feel chip crumbs in the bed, and wanted nothing more than to slip out and into the shower before the sun woke Gon up too.

As he pulled the covers off his legs, a shadow fell across them, blocking the sun from hitting Gon’s face. Killua’s half-lidded eyes snapped open.

“Happy Birthday, little Killua! ♥”

Killua had been wrong; Hisoka didn’t know better than to start something this early in the trip. “Gon, _wake up_ —!”

But Gon was fast asleep. Hisoka leaned over, his makeup not on and hair down, brushing hair out of his squinting eyes. Looking carefully over Killua’s form, he chuckled with a raise of his eyebrows. “ _Oh, my_. It looks like someone knows it’s his birthday~”

Killua’s face reddened, but what had been done to Gon was more important. Not even Gon would stay asleep after hearing the voice of Hisoka in such close proximity. Killua activated his gyo, seeing Bungee Gum leading to both of Gon’s ears. Before he could reach over to shake Gon awake, there was a hand on his chest. Then his stomach. And then his boxers were down in a second.

Illumi gave him a small smile from his side of the bed. Killua swung to hit his hand away as soon as he felt it wrap around his dick—but Illumi caught his wrist. “Killu, that’s a bad idea. If you make a lot of movement, your little guest will wake up.”

“Why the fuck are you doing this?” Killua whispered, glancing over to Gon nervously.

“You don’t have to whisper. He can’t hear a thing.” And with that, Killua’s hand was free—as if he were being dared to try anything.

Killua’s nerves and his brother’s hand did nothing to help his humiliatingly exposed erection. The air on his thighs and stomach made him shiver. He spoke, as if to distract himself, “please, stop. Illumi— _ah_ , let me go! Come on, it’s way too early for you to try this shit.” Too early in the morning and too early in this trip. Illumi’s fingers were slightly cool and as soft, as always, from his manicure habits. Sweat was starting to bead uncomfortably on Killua’s lower back.

“I’m not starting a fight, Killu. If you choose to harm me in retaliation after I’m done, that’s up to you.” It sounded as though he was doing this to try and get Killua to fight him, but Killua knew better. This was how Illumi was with him. Whether or not he was trying to humiliate Killua or give himself some sense of perverse satisfaction was a mystery, but his intentions weren’t as pure as wanting to start a fight or getting him to break the family rules. Killua wished his motivations were ever that simple.

Illumi tightened his grip slightly to punctuate his point. His expression was exactly how he looked while doing something normal like reading a book. Killua never understood how he could remain so stone-faced. His own face was burning, and he found himself chewing on his lip.

“I wouldn’t complain.” Hisoka narrowed his eyes as if imagining it, leaning against the headboard above Gon, he watched Illumi’s hand moving. He looked as though he were waiting to find an opening to take his turn. He wouldn’t complain if it were him in Killua’s place, and he wouldn’t complain if Killua were to start a fight.

“Why—what the fuck is he doing here?” It becoming harder to speak without his breath being robbed from him.

“ _Hm_? Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I’m on Gon Duty. My favorite kind. ♣”

Illumi spoke before they could continue bickering, “he’s making sure the boy can’t hear a thing. And if he wakes up on his own, Hisoka will do damage control.” Killua wanted to protest, but Illumi interrupted him with a sharp tug that kept him from speaking. His eyes met Killua’s as he said, “obviously, for your sake. We don’t care what he wakes up and thinks.”

That effectively shut Killua up. That, and his brother skipping all formalities by deep throating him. It certainly was characteristic of him not to waste any time, but this intensity was almost achingly desperate. It was unsurprising, Killua thought, a pervert like him couldn’t go even a year without putting his hands all over his little brother. Last vacation had been the same way. It was disturbing how used to it Killua had gotten, but it was exhilarating and dizzying each time.

Not that he could exactly help it at this point without risking worse consequences. Hisoka being in the room with them was a first, and the thought made Killua’s stomach churn, but it was hard to tell what exactly the churning was.

Killua wished he could tell Hisoka to fuck off, and at the very least get him to stop watching, but his eyes slipped shut and it was all he could do not to cry out in front of the asshole. He managed to even fail that.

“And I won’t lay a finger on Gon, don’t worry ♠”

He knew Illumi would never let him touch him either. It would ruin the frail bit of trust Killua had in Illumi’s priorities.

Killua’s hands balled into shaky fists as he tried to keep his body still. He never realized how impossible it was to not thrust up when his despicable brother did something like this. He had never needed to think about his actions at all before—voice, movement, and face were all impossible to keep control over.

Illumi pulled away enough for the air to chill the saliva on his dick, and he thrust up suddenly. Hard enough for the bed to bounce. He couldn’t help but gasp as he looked over to Gon again, seeing Hisoka’s ugly grin in his peripheral vision. Gon was still sound asleep as Illumi went back down again.

A small noise vibrated in the back of Illumi’s throat, his head had bobbed back up quickly, and Killua swore loudly. Illumi’s hair flicked around with his movements; strands of long hair tickled Killua’s thighs and swept over his stomach. Against Killua’s skin, still ghostly pale from having just woken up, the black hair was a stark contrast that made his toned body look softer. Illumi’s hair fell like a waterfall down Killua’s thighs and pooled on the bed between his legs. Like the bleached sheets and Illumi’s black jeans, there were no tones of gray between them—only the struggling blacks and whites of opposites refusing to compromise.

Killua’s body forgot how to speak in favor of thrashing up to find Illumi’s throat. Again.

A crackle of electricity broke out into the air. He couldn’t even keep his arousal separate from his nen when it was this intense. He would fuck everything over and wake Gon up with either his stupid, desperate thrusting or by shocking him awake.

Illumi held his hips to the bed, thumbs digging into Killua’s pelvic bones. It made Killua’s voice come out louder, and with more insuppressible intensity. The humiliation at hearing his own cracking moans neared him to the edge. Tears stung at his eyes. His hand moved on its own and grabbed a fistful of Illumi’s thick hair, as if were the most natural thing, and pressed his brother’s head down hard as he came.

Illumi’s nose had been pushed flush against his pubic bone, and when he let go he could practically feel how hard he had forced his nose to collide with it. When had his claws come out? A few stray black hairs were woven through Killua’s sweaty fingers, but he didn’t have the energy to wipe them off.

It was Illumi’s own damn fault, but it was humiliating to have used so much strength in forcing his orgasm exactly how he wanted it. His claws and electricity had betrayed him. He couldn’t hide how pent up he had been. Illumi lifted his head and sported a small bloody nose as well as an irritatingly satisfied look. A bit of blood stayed smeared, leaving another reminder he would have to shower away. Illumi absentmindedly ran a thumb over the blood-speckled, sparse pubic hair Killua had sprouted, making Killua tense up and shiver.

When Illumi stood, the cold on Killua’s thighs and hips reminded him that there was no longer another’s body heat above him. Eye level with his waist, Killua noticed Illumi had a noticeable erection in his wrinkle-free pants; for some reason it came as a surprise. It was surreal to think he’d never paid any attention to such an obvious thing before now. But he didn’t want to think about the way his brother could affect him, let alone how it affected his brother. Catching his breath—not having noticed before that his throat was achingly dry—he said, “now, leave.”

Hisoka whistled. It was long and drawn out, as if watching some spectacle. “How cold. How completely spoiled. He sure does get off and then toss out.”

“About the same as you,” Illumi quipped as though Killua weren’t awkwardly shimmying his boxers back up his hips and shooting a furious look his way.

“Hmm, true. But I wouldn’t be that way if it were my precious, swallowing big brother.”

“Get _out_!”

“Happy Birthday, Killu.”

“Fuck you.”

“Alright, you two, I don’t want to sit here and be left out again. I’m pulling my Bungee Gum from the Sleeping Apple Prince now.” He put up a long pale finger to his lips, “ _shhh_ ♥”

Hisoka and Illumi walked out as if they were resuming a morning stroll.

Killua flopped back onto his back, completely shaken up and exhausted, even though he had just woken up. The static still hadn’t dissipated from the room, and he could feel the hair standing up on his shaky legs. He couldn’t stand up to shower right now, even if he wanted to. Maybe he should just go back to sleep.

He sighed deeply, then heard a knock.

There was barely a hesitation before the door opened, and Hisoka and Illumi came in as though they hadn’t just walked out. This time they were carrying a cake.

“Happy Birthday! ♦” Hisoka said loudly, watching Gon sit up and rub his eyes. Killua had barely had time to go flaccid. He wanted nothing more than to reinjure his brother’s slightly swollen nose.

But Gon smiled. “Wow! You guys are great! Killua didn’t think anyone had stuff already bought for his birthday.” He glanced over to Killua, Killua giving a weak smile in return. “What flavor of cake is it? I totally want cake for breakfast! Aunt Mito would never let me do this at home.” Hisoka surprisingly handed him the entire cake—a round cake that had Killua’s name written in icing, next to a small heart.

Gon looked ridiculous holding that cake with his bedhead sticking up from the static electricity in the room. He looked like he had rubbed a balloon on his head—which he liked to do when mimicking Killua’s Godspeed mode—but didn’t seem to notice at all. He looked well-rested and relaxed despite the presence of Illumi and Hisoka. He either had way too much faith in their ability to be decent, or trusted that Killua wouldn’t let them do them any harm.

The cake was way too much. Completely excessive. The family always had a cake for him on the evening of his birthday, so why were they handing him an entire cake now? Unless it was purely to be irritating. Or get on Gon’s good side.

But Gon looked happy enough that it didn’t matter right this moment. That smile could do a lot of things, but it didn’t help Killua’s limbs to stop feeling so weak, or assuage his guilt.

“Don’t look so down, Killua! Take the cake. It’s _your_ birthday, not mine. Are you still asleep or what?”

“Happy Birthday, Killu.” Illumi said in the exact tone he had after sucking his dick. Not many people could tell the difference in Illumi’s passionless tones, but Killua could. Hisoka probably could too, because he covered his mouth to suppress a smile. Illumi pinched his slightly red nose. It had been wiped clean of blood, but the point had gotten across just fine. Killua writhed.

“Happy Birthday, Killua!” And once again, Gon was shoving food in his face. This time a piece of the chocolate cake. It fell down his front and landed in his lap; Killua audibly squeaked at how cold it was. It must have recently come out of a freezer.

“Gon, you asshole! What is it with you putting food on my face?” Killua jumped up to shake the chilled cake from his lap and wondered if somehow this is exactly what Illumi and Hisoka had been expecting to happen with the cake.

Gon was already doubled over laughing at his own joke, prodding at Killua with a mocking finger and gasping something about Killua’s squeak.

Killua did the only thing that could be done and slammed a piece of cake onto Gon’s wild bedhead. Gon froze and yelled, grabbing for the cake, but getting it all over his hands and making pieces of it crumble down around his ears. Chocolate frosting covered both of their fingers, Gon wiping it off onto Killua’s bare shoulders. He started drawing pictures until Killua caught his hands and sat on them, making Gon snort with laughter. At least Killua had been planning to shower anyway.

He looked up to see that Hisoka and Illumi were gone. Whatever purpose this cake was supposed to serve had obviously satisfied them. Looking over both he and Gon, they were smeared with chocolate from fighting like children. Killua didn’t want to think about why they had left instead of sticking around for this kind of perverse entertainment. It was almost more unsettling that they left.

“Shit!” Gon said suddenly, “someone’s going to have to clean this cake off the bed! I feel so bad now.”

Not only cake, but chip crumbs. Chip crumbs on the floor and sprinkled on top of their toppled pile of video games and flattened soda bottles. They had broken one of Killua’s old and terrible games because the shit quality had deeply offended them. The disk fragments were scattered across the room and bundled up in some extra blankets. The furniture was moved around and there was a stale, partly-eaten cookie on the armrest that Gon had discovered was raisin instead of chocolate chip.

Great. Hisoka and Illumi were probably talking about how cute and destructive kids could be to a nice room in one night.

Two showers and one long apology note (after a few crumpled up drafts) later, they finally met the rest of the family down at the breakfast table. It was always an option for the hotel to bring a full breakfast to their individual rooms, of course, but their parents didn’t allow that kind of opt-out.

They had an entire year of estranged eating in bedrooms, underhanded blackmail, manipulation, and weeks at a time without knowing where their brothers were to make up for in a single week. Their parents made them eat every major meal together, or with at least three family members present while on vacation. The rules were as ridiculously stilted as always, but every bit of micro-managing was necessary to keep their solitary, and oftentimes hostile, children in check.

The hotel gave them their own private dining room for their family meals. The Zoldyck’s personal staff waited on them and brought the meals from the kitchens so the hotel wouldn’t be understaffed at any point. The last thing they wanted was to cause a big inconvenience, and consequently a disturbance, where they were staying. A separate room to seat a large and powerful-looking family was necessary, even if it wasn’t already preferable.

“You two are late.” Silva stated simply upon them entering the room. Everyone had already started. If Gon hadn’t drafted that letter so many times and folded it up to stand on the pillow, they may not have been late. Killua ran a hand through his wet mop of white hair and stuck his tongue out.

“Sorry, Dad.” He wasn’t looking for an apology, Killua knew. Just an acknowledgement that they wouldn’t let it happen again. Gon bowed and apologized louder, but Silva made no effort to respond. The kid was so worried about formalities that he stood out even more among the lackluster family members. “It’s fine, Gon,” Killua assured him, knowing no one else would step up and be polite. “Besides, it looks like Grandpa isn’t here yet either.”

Illumi and Hisoka were sitting next to each other at the far end of the table, across from two empty seats. They made it impossible to avoid them. Illumi didn’t look up from his plate—in his own world and entirely unapproachable as usual. He had his hair fastened with a small, white ribbon in a low ponytail (who else other than young children used ribbons?) to keep it out of the way as he ate, his exposed face inhumanly without blemish to the extent that the small damage on his nose stood out in the brightly lit room.

Illumi had never sported traces of their sexual encounters before—or any others, if he had done with Hisoka. Illumi wasn’t clumsy or let anyone get the best of him, so he never bore even the smallest scuffs to his appearance, let alone on his face. And it had obviously not been there the night before.

Had anyone asked him how or why? Would Illumi be shamelessly straightforward? Killua examined the face of every family member to see if they were looking at him strangely, but came up with nothing normal nor abnormal about their behavior. They weren’t exactly close enough to have an identifiable normal, but a few of them kept glancing at Illumi’s nose.

As if they hadn’t already noticed him—as if there were another set of two empty seats available—Hisoka waved them over to the seats across from them. Hisoka’s hair was still down and he was in the tank top that he probably had slept in, unlike all of the already put-together Zoldycks. Gon sat there without hesitation, ready to eat and not at all perturbed, but he looked Hisoka over as if he had forgotten how he looked when not in his flamboyant getup. As if the man who had been in their room this morning had been a complete stranger.

Killua sat down in a slump across from Illumi and tried not to stare at his nose.

Zeno walked in even later. Silva made the same noncommittal comment, but was completely ignored. It seemed Zeno had more energy than anyone at the table, walking over to Killua and shaking his shoulders. “Happy Birthday, Kiddo! How old are you again?”

“Jeeze, Grandpa, at least pretend you remember!” Killua laughed and tried to steady himself against Zeno’s prodding. Zeno could always cheer Killua up; he was thankful for his grandpa when they actually had time to spend together.

“I’m an old man with five grandkids! You can’t expect miracles. Blame my son for reproducing like a rabbit. He didn’t have to worry about competing with four brothers for my attention.”

“Gross, Grandpa!” Milluki yelled, slamming his silverware down on the table.

“Father, please.” Silva barely lost his casual eating pace, entirely used to the man who had raised him.

“What? Is he not old enough? I never can remember when this new modern conservative parenting style thinks it’s alright to tell children they were made from sex.”

At some point, Gon and Killua had both received their plates. Gon was eating, mildly the breakfast conversation. Killua was still being held to the back of the chair, his food getting cold. Zeno was certainly in a fighting spirit this morning. He was incorrigible when he got like this, but still better than the other adults in the family.

“You see why I want to switch rooms with Alluka! Why can’t I just room with Kalluto? I get stuck with Grandpa every year. It sucks!” They had definitely had this tireless discussion before. Killua had roomed with Kalluto in the past because they were closer in age, so Milluki had always gotten stuck with their grandfather for as long as Hisoka had been coming on these trips. “Mama, say something!”

Kalluto graciously kept entertaining Alluka despite his name being dropped. He showed Alluka how to peel an orange with his nails, both of them smiling, far away from this awkward exchange. He had recently taken on a protective role with Alluka and was extremely proficient (the strong smell of the orange was perfect for keeping Alluka’s senses fixed on their actions,) much to Killua’s delight. It was hard to remember that Kalluto was the youngest.

“Now, Millu, you’re older than Kalluto. If we were to put your grandpa in someone else’s room because of his mouth it just couldn’t be with your younger brothers.” Kikyo said sweetly, the sound of her fork scraping against the plate sending shrill, purposeful warnings to her father-in-law. Zeno gripped Killua’s shoulders harder, ignoring her.

Hisoka was fully disinterested in his food by this point, shamelessly hanging on every word. If the truth were to be known, this was the real reason he insisted on coming every year.

“And we wouldn’t put one of the younger boys in with you either, Milluki.” Zeno said, moving away from Killua and taking his seat to Hisoka’s right. “Not with your internet habits.”

Kikyo cleared her throat hard. Dangerously.

Hisoka let out an entirely fake _oh my_ as he turned to Zeno, “I could always room with someone else, if that would help?” His offer was as fake as his astonishment and everyone knew it. They were used to him interjecting like a concerned family member—speaking up more than Illumi did when these kinds of things broke out.

Zeno acted as though Hisoka weren’t there, as though he had pulled an argument from the air. “Killua and Illumi both have _guests_ with them, so they don’t have to worry about it.” His emphasis on the word ‘guests’ was almost as unsettling as him equating Hisoka and Illumi’s relationship to Killua and Gon’s. “You’re stuck with your gross grandpa until you bring a girl with you and force me into my own room. So hurry it up already!”

“I’ve _told_ you, I’ve told _all_ of you that I’m not interested! Leave me alone!” And with that, Milluki stood up and left an empty plate. “Let me know when we’re leaving for the city!” He yelled back after walking from the room.

“Maybe a more gender neutral term would be helpful?” Hisoka chimed in unhelpfully. Everyone knew it had nothing to do with that. Everyone except Gon, who had fried egg hanging out of his mouth as he looked at Killua with a questioning stare.

Killua just shook his head. Things were as fine as they were going to be. If Gon couldn’t get used to this level of bickering, they were in for a longer week than Killua could possibly put up with.

But with the family mutually ignoring Hisoka, things seemed to drop back to peaceful relatively quickly after Milluki’s dramatic departure. Or as peaceful as dead silence could be. Killua began on his cold food, too stubborn to break the silence and ask for it to be reheated by their staff.

Illumi shifted, leaning back to relax and sip coffee like nothing at all had happened. Being the oldest, he was more used to this kind of thing than any other brother.

“Holy shit, boy, who got the better of _you_?” Zeno said suddenly, leaning in and not caring that he was nearly touching Hisoka, to get a better look at Illumi’s face. The atmosphere of the room shifted, the obvious Pandora’s Box having been nudged. Hisoka leaned back further so he could see Zeno and Illumi’s interactions—waiting to be entertained by all of the family drama he could ask for. He hadn’t even needed to instigate it this time. He made eye contact with Killua and winked. Not subtly.

Illumi leaned forward, set down his coffee, and touched his nose thoughtfully. “Is it that noticeable?”

So much for hoping the cold food would settle well on his stomach. Gon wiped off his mouth and leaned in to get a good look too, having just noticed. All Killua could think about was the blood that had been flaked in his pubic hair where Illumi’s nose had been forcibly buried. It stirred him in a way that was almost worse than the fear that Illumi would say something stupid.

“Whoa! Did Hisoka hit you?” Gon asked loudly, breaking the curiosity into a new tension. This dropped bomb implied that they had broken the rules about fighting. Gon was unknowingly cornering them into admitting the real truth, and Killua twisted in his seat to think of a way to interject. To make it a joke or to take the virulence from that implication.

Hisoka mimicked Killua’s twisting, drinking in the sight of his panicked expression. Gon hadn’t thought about it being against the rules before blurting it out, and caught up to speed with his implication a second later. He side glanced at Killua and muttered, “did I say something bad?”

“ _Oohhhhh!_ ” Zeno exclaimed in realization, glancing up at Hisoka and then back at Illumi. Then back at Hisoka, who couldn’t contain his absolute pleasure at Killua’s squirming. “I see. Well then, forget I asked. _Your parents_ would find it inappropriate,” he announced to the general room. Clearly not planning to actually drop it.

“Aren’t you going to _eat_ , Father?” Silva was becoming visibly agitated with the old man holding up everyone else who had finished eating.

“I’m not. My stomach doesn’t feel well this morning, thank you for asking.”

“Then it’s time for us to go. Everyone get your things around and meet out front. Father, go get Milluki. And for heaven’s sake, _apologize_ , you petty man.”

Zeno grunted and shot one last look at Illumi and Hisoka before standing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a lot of fun writing the other Zoldycks, and I hope you like their characterization. Let me know (in either the comments or in my ask box on brocon-the-destroyer.tumblr.com) which of the Zoldyck members you would like to see appear more and I will keep it in mind for later chapters!


	4. The Red Headband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My strange headcanons bleed out into this chapter quite a bit, but they are all expanded upon and explained within the course of the fic. I hope that you will trust me, patiently go along for the ride, and enjoy it on the way!

They all loaded up into a large bus to head into the city, each armed with their best attempt at casual dress to blend into the crowds. Gon donned the same red shorts he had worn yesterday, and had his emptied backpack on his back. Killua made a mental note to buy Gon another outfit, and to have the one he was wearing washed. Everyone but Gon knew not to wear clothing directly from a store. It was filthy. How could you know who had tried them on before you? Killua had handed his new purchases off to the help as soon as they unpacked him.

Disembarking from the bus in the middle of the city, Gon ogled the changed appearances of Illumi and Hisoka. They had definitely had the most to change in assuming a normal, non-fighter appearance.

Hisoka’s makeup was still gone, and while he had obviously refused to keep his hair down his clothes were strikingly normal. A cotton-candy pink button down shirt (with too many top buttons left open) and ivory capris didn’t stray far from his normal color scheme, especially when coupled with the flats he had been wearing when helping them out on Greed Island. Or at least they appeared to be. It was difficult telling how many pairs of extremely similar pieces of clothing Hisoka would put effort into owning. He had a pair of dangling earrings in and card suit belt dangling from his waist; these made enough small noise to get him attention without his usual extremes.

He shuffled his deck of cards in boredom; being allowed to bring them along after he made assurances that they were only for entertainment purposes. _Maybe I’ll do street-side magic if I get bored?_ had been his argument. No one wanted to argue with him.

He caught Gon staring, which was an extremely bad way to begin keeping Hisoka’s interest in Gon to a minimum. Killua quickly made a joke as if he had been staring too, “I agree, he does _almost_ look like he qualifies as a human being now. So close.”

Hisoka went back to his cards, not convinced at all that Gon had made such an initial smartass comment, but it had effectively stolen the momentum he needed to tease Gon for staring. Illumi handed Hisoka the pager they would be sharing for the bus. He handed the last one to Milluki as he had done for everyone else—always the good son when asked to do some formality of a task that no one else wanted to.

Gon’s backpack held the pager he and Killua shared. It would allow them to call for the (Zoldyck family reserved) bus service at any time, inform them when a meeting point and time had been established, and served as a GPS for the parent pagers to track. It was a way for them to minimize their cell phone usage, which was always preferable in keeping them untraceable by outside forces. They could see approximately where the other pagers were summoning bus rides as well, so they could predict where the other family members would be doing their birthday shopping. They couldn’t talk things through like a normal family. Gon marveled at the lengths they would go through.

“Our accounts get locked too,” Killua had explained when they had been sandwiched on the bus, “so they can make sure no unconfirmed payments don’t wire in or out. They want to make sure we aren’t accepting jobs on the side or hiring anyone to do jobs for us back home. Or accepting money for information about our whereabouts—any shady stuff like that. They also want to make sure money is getting spent wisely—not blowing it all on anime figures, for example—“

“Oh sure, use _me_ as an example and not you blowing all of your money on _autographed skateboards_!” Milluki had interrupted from behind them.

“— _and_ that it’s being used towards things like my birthday gift. They don’t want anything illegal or unauthorized being smuggled into another territory just so they can give a gift they don’t have to think about. There are too many possibilities for there to not be a complete and total seizure placed on the transactions and funds in our accounts.”

Once again, Gon had looked as though he were being tortured by trying to follow this information he was being assaulted with. Of course this didn’t mean much to him; he didn’t have an account to take hold of. The only money he thought he would need he carried on him, and the rest was sent back home to Aunt Mito so she could put it in a savings for him. And even that wasn’t comparable to the large amount of money that each Zoldyck son possessed. The risks weren’t conceivable enough to be interesting to someone who stuck his money in his shoe if he wasn’t carrying a backpack.

“Remember to check your pagers frequently. All guests,” this phrase they heard every year was a lot less awkward now that Hisoka was not the only guest, “must be with a Zoldyck family member at all times. Each Zoldyck must also be within a mile of another Zoldyck in case of emergencies,” see: if guest happens to attempt to betray or murder a Zoldyck member, “although it is highly encouraged for Zoldycks to be grouped with at least one other. We will meet for lunch in approximately four hours’ time, you will receive the specifics through your pager.”

And with that, Silva and Kikyo walked off together with Zeno (a few lectures for Zeno no doubt in store). Milluki pocketed his pager as soon as they were out of sight and pulled out his cell phone, checking the area map and current sales as he walked deliberately in the opposite direction.

“Killua,” Alluka said, dragging Kalluto behind him by the hand, “I would come with you, but Kalluto and I are going to go pick out your presents first! We will find you the best presents and then you’re going to be stuck with both of us hanging out with you.” He smiled, fumbling with a pink barrette that had come loose in his hair, “so you won’t get alone time with Gon forever. You’re my big brother and you won’t get away from me so easily.”

Kalluto’s face burned behind him. He was obviously unable to say anything about whether or not he approved of Alluka’s use of ‘we’ but muttered “come on, Alluka. We’ve got to find Killua’s favorite stores before everyone beats us there.”

And with that, his two adorable brothers went to find him the best gifts.

“Alluka’s still so attached to you, isn’t he?” Gon said, sounding a bit conflicted.

“He and Kalluto are so different in age from Milluki and Illumi that it’s almost like I’m their only big brother. But at least they’ve got each other now. I don’t have to worry as much about leaving either of them alone.” Killua smiled, feeling as though his younger brothers were escaping the loneliness experienced by the older Zoldycks. He watched them walk away hand in hand, talking rapidly about where they were going to go. Alluka would definitely forgive him for being so close to Gon. “But there are so many places I want to show you!”

But something pulled Gon into shuffling his feet and looking around frantically. “Killua, hang on a minute.” Gon said, stopping Killua in his tracks. “I will be right back, okay? Hang on.”

Killua barely had time to nod when Gon ran after the backs of Illumi and Hisoka. _Fuck_.

“What is he up to? God, this is such a bad idea. Gon, whatever it is, it’s not worth it.” Killua muttered to himself in the middle of the crowded street. Gon was talking animatedly with Hisoka, and Hisoka was making thoughtful gestures like he was considering some offer being laid before him. It became harder by the minute for Killua to keep in one place.

But Gon had said to hang on, and he didn’t want to seem as though he didn’t trust him.

He started counting down in his head how long it would be before he allowed himself to casually intervene in whatever conversation Gon felt he needed to have with them. That duo didn’t need a lot of time to make matters extremely ugly and start playing with heavy bargaining chips.

Hisoka shook his head and shrugged as though he were playing coy, and put a weighted arm around Illumi. Illumi ignored him as usual, pulling down Hisoka’s riding up shirt. Illumi looked Killua’s way briefly before saying something to Gon. Gon looked back to him, back to Hisoka and Illumi again, and then nodded. Hisoka slipped off Illumi begrudgingly, and Illumi straightened the unbuttoned black collared shirt he had under his pale green sweater vest. Once he had flattened his fingers across his waist to make sure his shirt hadn’t come untucked, he nodded in return.

Oh fuck. They were all three coming over.

“So, uh, Killua,” Gon smiled grabbed his hand in a way he knew Killua would be more willing to forgive him, “they are going to tag along, okay?”

“Why.” Killua asked tersely, obviously trying to suppress his desire to jump to conclusions and lose his cool.

“I can’t tell you! But you gotta trust me, okay? And besides your dad said it was better for you and your brother to walk around together anyway, right? Right?” He squeezed Killua’s hand in an obvious apology. Killua sighed loudly. He couldn’t exactly stay angry over something so small. As far as bargains were considered, this seemed to be pretty light payment for whatever it is Gon wanted from them.

“Fine. You two better not try anything. I’m hanging out with Gon, not you. Feel free to leave any time and keep your comments to yourself.” Killua was determined to act as though they weren’t there as much as possible. He kept Gon’s hand in his and dragged the boy to the first place on his mental list of stops. Illumi and Hisoka followed wordlessly, but he could feel Illumi’s eyes on their locked fingers.

The first place was a candy store—huge and colorful with children running and screaming underfoot. Killua hadn’t noticed the almost entirely child clientele the last time he had been here, but he had also been seven at the time. The sculptures made entirely out of candy and chocolate were still impressive even now, but he was beginning to feel warm in the face as Gon looked around at everything. He didn’t want Gon to think he was immature. His fingers felt sticky between Gon’s although they kept the temperature frigid in the store to maintain the sculptures.

“This place is amazing!” Gon said, looking at the six foot gummy fish statue hanging from the tall ceiling. It could have easily looked like the fish Gon had told Killua about him catching before he had left home. Gon still told the story with pride, although now Gon could probably catch the same fish with one hand blindfolded and not feel even a tinge of challenge. Killua briefly thought about how much the gummy beast would cost, but thought about his frozen account. And of carrying back a ridiculous fifty pound gummy fish to their hotel. Gon switched to looking at the stacked cases of sweets and large posters listing their extensive stock. He didn’t take particular notice of the hordes of children although the children noticed two teen boys holding hands followed by two adults.

“I took Killu here the first time,” Illumi said to Hisoka quietly, “I was seventeen, I think”

Killua dragged Gon to a display case of chocolate truffles near the back of the store, trying to ditch them. To his relief they stayed next to the entrance, talking and glancing over the displays closest to the checkout. He didn’t want to know what they were saying, but it ate at him that they were definitely talking about him coming here as a child. Those weren’t things he wanted Hisoka knowing. He didn’t know why. It just bugged him.

“Let me know if you want anything,” Killua said, picking up the nearest ‘Fill this bag with anything for a fixed price’ bags, “if it’s not chocolate, we can take it with us. If it is, we can just eat it in the store.”

“I don’t know, what do you want? I’m not as picky as you are, Killua!” The inflection of the Killua’s name as Gon spoke loudly over the children around them caused his voice to crack. He looked a bit self-conscious, but handed Killua a few items for the bag anyway. Killua realized his voice was consistently deeper than Gon’s, and wondered if it bothered him at all.

Truth be told, Killua didn’t want anything. He knew that more sweets were coming in the evening for his birthday. Even though he and Gon hadn’t eaten any of the suspicious cake he hadn’t had a good breakfast either, so sweets sounded more sickening than anything. It felt weird for him to not want sweets. But he picked out a few things that would last them through the heat outside and bought them two sodas from the cooler.

Hisoka was buying his favorite brand of gum, calling it Bungee Gum even though Killua couldn’t see if that was the actual brand name. Illumi was staring at a graphics chart for old candy they had discontinued. Staring at Illumi’s back, Killua noticed he had swapped his white ribbon for a green one before leaving the hotel. Killua felt a strange pull standing in a sea of children buying out their allowance on candy while checking out candy next to a nostalgic brother and his sex friend that had bought a pack of gum. He and Gon were on a weird cusp, and being in a store that played windup box music made him think about the blowjob he had woken up to. Hisoka started blowing bubbles and popping them.

He was ready to move on already. Gon fished a stick of rocky candy out of the bag and struggled to hold Killua’s hand with one hand with his sweating soda and rock candy in the other. Eventually he tried to not drool everywhere while simultaneously eating and holding the rock candy in his mouth. He made slurping noises as he kept reeling his spit back into his mouth. Behind them, Illumi was complaining that Hisoka was going to get that gum in his hair if he kept popping it standing so close to him. Hisoka corrected him, _Bungee Gum._

Killua wiped the sweat from his forehead and wondered when he had started to perspire. His and Gon’s fingers became uncomfortably covered in sweat and he wanted to just let go, but it would be too awkward after Gon juggled his things to continue holding his hand. Why were they even holding hands? The next stop was a toy shop that had a huge rideable toy train suspended on a track that circled the room and could reach speeds of sixty miles an hour; but Killua found himself dreading how much his memory of that place had changed too. He didn’t want to be stared at by a bunch of children again or ride on a toy train in front of Illumi and Hisoka talking about how Illumi had taken Killua to this place years ago too.

He took a quick left, decided to double back and head to the large indoor shopping mall. It had a variety of cool and distracting stores (hopefully Fucky the Magician and Brother Dearest would get distracted and leave them alone) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment filled with children and Killua’s distorted memories. They walked around for a while in the deafening crowds, window shopping and trying to stay in a group of four (to Killua’s displeasure) while fighting against the waves of people weaving between them.

Eventually, Hisoka wrapped his hands around Illumi’s waist and clung to him like a child afraid to be separated from his mom. Illumi impassively allowed him, Hisoka’s fingers burying themselves into the fabric of the sweater vest. People were staring, but not in a negative way. An ‘ _aww’_ rose from somewhere and Killua could feel his teeth clenching. He dipped sharply into a video game store while still dragging Gon by the hand. The teens weaved in between the displays and shelves like a snake in a maze; Gon’s body was malleable and allowed Killua to drag him.

They finally slowed down to look at all of the game systems and colorful cardboard figures they had passed. Several versions ahead of the last version Killua owned were mixed in with his favorite game series. He hadn’t gotten a new game or system in years—while living at home he had gotten the new releases as soon as they came out.

If Milluki hadn’t already planned to get the new game and wait in line for midnight releases, Killua could ask one of the butlers to take him to a midnight release. This worked until their parents started to take notice of how much assassination money they were spending on games and toys. It would leave a trail, they said. It was excessive and they wouldn’t encourage it.

So a young and sly Killua, wanting a new game without having to weave through the channels of butlers and parents, had texted his teenage brother and asked him to pick it up. This was met with surprisingly little questioning or resistance even though Illumi openly thought video games were a waste of time. But with seemingly no limit to what Illumi would agree to pick up Killua naturally started to blow up his brother’s phone.

19:35: Killu: _Mom and Dad said you are in Yorknew tonight. There’s a big video game store on Main Street. You can’t miss it, can you get me a game called Candy Wars? It’s for the computer. Please?_

He remembered thinking how clever he was to have found a way to manipulate his idiot brother. Even though all he was doing was asking. There was no manipulation about it. Killua’s childhood-self embarrassed him. After a while he stopped with the formalities and pleases. Illumi would fulfil his requests by default, although he hardly ever sent a text to Killua in response.

22:03 Killu: _Stop and get me the new Cosmic Crusaders game? It’s a midnight release. You’ll be done by then, right?_

22:15: Killu: _Some chocorobos would be nice too :3_

Illumi would stop by and get the newest game on the way home from an assignment; he never asked for assistance from workers even in areas where he was knowingly ignorant. So if the game mentioned in Killua’s text was confusing, too shorthand, or shared many similarities with a similar title Illumi would buy a bunch of newly released or similarly named games to make certain one of them he had gotten was correct. Killua ended up with not only the game he requested, but a bunch of games he wouldn’t play (or Illumi had bought _again_ ) so he passed them on to his other brothers as gifts for holidays and secretly gave copies to the butlers.

Once he had asked Illumi to pick up an entire game system he had already owned so the butlers could play the games he had given them. Their parents never tracked Illumi’s spending or purchases since he was the good son; he became the best method for exorbitant purchases and smuggling things Killua wasn’t allowed to have or things the butlers weren’t allowed to have (that Killua wanted to give them anyway).

Eventually Killua would send Illumi for things Milluki or Kalluto wanted too while pretending it was for him; particularly when Illumi was on a job in another continent. Killua would bargain for favors from his other brothers using the items that had been gently stacked beside his bed while he was asleep. Killua never had gotten caught for sending Illumi on those shopping errands. He had ended up with so much candy stashed under his bed that he had made himself sick on multiple occasions.

On some nights when his midnight hunger had gotten the better of him and Gon had been asleep, Killua had wondered if he could still send Illumi a text telling him to pick something up and leave it outside of their door. Yes, Killua had decided, it would be there within a few hours of whenever the worker bee had completed the current job he was on. Illumi could easily track him, and wouldn’t bother him with formalities, questions, or talk of repayment. Killua could have food at any hour of the night if he were willing to ask for it. But he wasn’t. Independence meant more to him than his hungers.

It went along with whatever warped sense of brotherhood or family duty Illumi had, Killua supposed. Or maybe it was another manipulation tactic that Killua had unknowingly fallen into.

All memories of his brother were of him working, torturing and conditioning him in-between picking up whatever grocery list Killua had sent him, taking long enough baths to cause Milluki to gripe, and feeding Killua’s sexuality in ways very similar to that morning. Eventually those hungers had caused Killua to send _other_ request texts to Illumi while they had lived together and over these vacations.

01:00 Killu: _You’re home, right? …can you come in here?_

Illumi never made him admit to what he was asking for; he never brought it up in the daylight hours. Met with such ease of use and no negative consequences these texts had become embarrassingly habitual for Killua before he had escaped and met Gon. It was no wonder Illumi felt he could just waltz right in and act like sucking his dick was normal. It kind of was for them.

In retrospect, the torture was never the strangest part of his relationship with Illumi.

“Killua, didn’t you say you were going to get a doll for Alluka? Why don’t we try to win one in there?”

He had forgotten about the doll he had wanted to get Alluka when skipping the toy store. Gon grabbed his shoulders and physically turned him around.

Killua hadn’t noticed that the video game store opened up into a huge arcade lit with black lights and flashing screens. The sounds of explosions and 8-bit music erased the memories of the music box sounds back at the candy store. This was something he could definitely get behind; he and Gon released their held hands and ran into the strobe lights. Trying not to get distracted by every game they passed they made their way to the counter and looked over the available prizes.

There were multiple dolls and prizes that Alluka would love. But Killua knew right away that he would adore the three foot voodoo doll with exaggerated heart symbol carved into the chest. It was a ticket based system, and every game gave tickets. He got a bunch of shiny golden tokens for himself and Gon and they went their separate ways.

Trying various fighting games, Killua got his ass handed to him by strangers that had obviously spent their lives on these games. Not that they could hold a candle to Milluki. But Killua was very quickly peeved and tired of watching his character get his head sliced off.

He found himself wandering around looking for Gon after only an hour. He found Gon on a dance machine, jumping up and falling back down to press the hand buttons rapidly. His red shorts practically glowed above the flashing directional pad. He was doing fairly well considering what a high setting he had it on. Had he played it before or had he gotten this good over the past hour?

“Hey, Killua!” Gon said briefly before he started getting booed on screen and could obviously no longer split his concentration.

Killua looked around and noticed a small casino section a few feet away. “I’m just going to…wait for you over here.” He said to no one. A towering pachinko machine caught his eyes as his hand went instinctually to the tokens in his pockets. These only distributed tickets, so he didn’t need to be of age to play.

* * *

 

Sometime later a cold hand was on his and stopped his lever-pulling. “Killu, you’re gambling again.”

Killua jumped and quickly took out his phone. An hour had passed without him knowing. He spun around on the stool and looked back towards the dance machines to see that Gon was long gone.

Illumi grabbed the stool and spun him back around. He glanced back to the slot machine he had moved to after pachinko. He had some luck left yet, and he already had a token in the machine. He quickly pulled the lever. The slots spun around for awhile before stopping abruptly on all of the wrong symbols. _Dammit_.

No luck this time, but all of that luck was backlogged and saving up for one final pull in which Killua would get all 7s. It would be even more gratifying after all of his frustrating losses. He was sure of it.

“You’re gambling again,” Illumi repeated, grabbing Killua’s wrist and hanging onto it. He leaned in as if trying to pick any hint of guilt out of Killua’s expression.

“Leave me alone. I haven’t even spent all of my tokens yet.” He said as he scooped the tokens off the ledge and shoved them back into his pocket protectively. He didn’t want Illumi counting them even though he had no idea how many tokens that had initially been bought.

“Those are Gon’s tokens. You blew through yours 45 minutes ago. He left them here as he was telling you that he was leaving with Hisoka. Those are his tickets in your pocket.”

“ _What?_ ” Killua went to stand but Illumi kept him sitting on the stool with a few fingers pressed to his chest. “That’s against the rules. Dad said they couldn’t leave our side.”

There was a small drawstring that weaved through the V-neck collar of Killua’s shirt. Illumi wound it through his fingers and slowly tied it to cover Killua’s collarbone. “They aren’t leaving the shopping mall. Hisoka’s just doing what Gon asked him to. He asked me to keep you here, but you’ve been doing a fine job of that yourself.”

Killua tried to knock his hands away. “You know what it is they’re doing?” Illumi nodded silently, resuming his grip on Killua’s drawstrings. Killua let him have at it.

There wasn’t much he could do about the Hisoka and Gon situation. Illumi was confident that they weren’t going to leave the mall—they couldn’t get into too much trouble, right? There were a small pile of tickets that had pooled on the floor from the few—very few—times he had won. “Oh shit, I’ve made fuck-all in tickets. Gon didn’t make much either. How long are they going to be gone?”

“You should stop succumbing to your vices, little brother.” Drawstring successfully in a small bow, Illumi reached into his pocket and pulled out a receipt. He unfolded it slowly and held it out to Killua.

“You’re one to talk!” Killua spat, letting the small ticket pile drop back onto the floor with a defeated rustle.

“I don’t see what you mean.” Illumi’s eyebrows raised slightly, but his body language was otherwise frozen. His posture was leaned in towards Killua, but that was not indicative at this point. His default was to invade Killua’s personal space.

“ _You don’t see what I—_ ” Killua blinked hard as if this pale green and black idiot in front of him would disappear, grabbing the piece of paper still waving in his face. “ _You_ —” The paper ended up crumpling in his hand as he struggled to not say what needed to be said while wanting to not let his brother play stupid. After a bit of deliberation, Illumi patiently waiting for his response, irritating him further, he decided to be patronizing. “Would you like to explain what happened this morning?”

Illumi stayed silent. He wasn’t one to answer rhetorical questions. He looked at the crumpled paper in Killua’s hands for a while before replying, “I don’t see how that’s a vice.”

_Fucking impossible_. There was no way to argue with him even over obvious situations like this. Illumi liked to make Killua explain himself—to make him bear the burden of proving any accusations no matter how plain and clear-cut. He always rose to the bait whereas Illumi would just walk away if the tables in the conversation were turned on him. As if the conversation topic only mattered as far as he could make Killua keep talking to him. Killua hated himself for always dangling on the hook as Illumi gave him that piercing gaze.

“ _Fucking pervert_ ” Killua muttered, knowing that Illumi wouldn’t say anything in response. It only made him feel a bit better. He was still the one with his head down. He unfolded the paper and saw a receipt belonging to the arcade. It had a balance written on it of a large amount of tickets. Enough for Alluka’s voodoo doll. He glanced up at Illumi and furrowed his eyebrows, “I’m not taking this from you.”

“You didn’t lose us in the crowd. I am exceptionally good at the skee-ball game. I’ve already made my purchase. Throw it away if you don’t want it, I suppose.”

Killua couldn’t imagine what kind of prize Illumi had gotten with tickets. Or him getting a perfect score over and over on single game for an hour straight just to achieve enough tickets to both make his purchase and enough for the voodoo doll. But at the same time Killua could definitely see Illumi doing just that. He wasn’t carrying anything—maybe he was lying and too stubborn to spend any of it if Killua wouldn’t accept it.

Killua sighed. He didn’t want to play any games to try and win more tickets while Illumi was hovering over him anyway. He scooped up his tickets from the floor and went to buy Alluka’s doll with most of the tickets from Illumi’s balance. Illumi followed him but didn’t ask who the doll was for or why. Killua scanned quickly the items on the wall to see what had interested Illumi enough to make him purchase tickets and play games. It was hopeless of course—there were hundreds of prizes on the wall. Killua had been lucky to find something for Alluka without looking for an hour just at the prizes.

There was a small rustling as Illumi sidestepped Killua’s beeline for the door. He had somehow gotten ahold of the bag of candy he and Gon had bought from the candy shop—maybe Killua had left it behind at the casino. Maybe he really did have a gambling problem.

Illumi could continue to carry it since he had a three foot voodoo doll to carry now. They sat outside of the arcade and both checked their phones for any kind of signal from Hisoka or Gon. The silence dragged on and Killua shifted the doll from one arm to the other. Killua wanted to take out the pager to see if anyone had taken their bus service anywhere or reported on where to meet. But it was still in Gon’s backpack.

“The doll is for Alluka,” Killua said quietly, almost as if not talking to Illumi at all. He wasn’t sure why he felt he needed to clarify it wasn’t for him. Or for Gon.

Black eyes descended on the doll and carefully looked it over as if inspecting it for flaws in its seams. He easily could have been doing just that what with his affinity for stitching and finding the flaws in others. He hovered over the exaggerated heart carved into the chest, stitching swollen around the edges like a wound. Something in his gaze softened as if he found it appealing. “He will like it.”

Killua wanted cross him again in that moment. Ask him how he could have any degree of certainty on the matter when he had treated Alluka like a dirty secret for ten years. But it wasn’t worth it. Alluka had said over and over again not to hold grudges with his name attached. Killua tried not to, he really did, but Illumi was always the exception. Everything out of that man’s mouth made Killua want to struggle like it were fight or flight.

He was too old to still be dancing to this ugly tune. He made a concerted effort to make small talk, “So, did you _actually_ buy something with those tickets before you gave them to me?” It took all of his strength not to say _not that I needed them_.

“Yes, I bought your birthday present.”

It was the only possible answer, but Killua hadn’t expected him to say it so frankly. He really had been away from home for years, hadn’t he? If he asked Illumi what the present was, would he tell him? Ever-practical Illumi didn’t see the point to a lot of baseless traditions. Killua had convinced him on many Christmases passed to give him his gifts early. Illumi had said, sure, why not? He only went through the motions of secrecy on habit of how he had been raised and what the rest of the family did.

The conversation dropped again. Killua wanted to let it drown before he had to seem interested or uninterested in what Illumi had gotten him. But what was a better time to try growing up than on your birthday, faced with old beasts? He forced himself to march on the path of useless banter. “I’m uh, sure it’s better than a bunch of headbands at least, right?” Killua let out a small laugh—quickly reminded of why no one save Hisoka ever tried to joke with Illumi.

Illumi didn’t laugh, but waited for Killua’s laugh to sputter to a stop. “I wear them.” Illumi met Killua’s eyes and pointed to his hairline, as if assuring Killua he hadn’t failed to laugh on the account of not understanding the reference. “Although I must admit, the red one was destroyed during an assignment. I stopped wearing them on jobs after that. The rest of them are intact.”

He was serious. This wasn’t just a bad Illumi joke attempt. Those headbands that Killua had practically thrown a dart to pick out two years ago on Illumi’s birthday were a very specific item that Illumi hadn’t lost among the rest of his accessories. Killua hadn’t known there was a red one among the assortment.

Two years ago, walking into a high end-hair salon and wanting to get his shopping over with, Killua had asked for six or seven (he hadn’t paid attention to how many he had purchased either) of the most expensive headbands they had. It wasn’t easy to spend a decent amount of money on hair accessories unless you had knowledge or shamelessly asked for their most expensive ones, but Killua had had no other ideas. He hadn’t necessarily given a damn. Keeping up appearances with the family was nothing but a chore for everyone.

There was no way for him to have known that Illumi’s _Thank you, Killu, these are lovely_   was anything more than the same type of appeasement.

Killua’s face burned in the suffocating air of the crowds around them as he tried to remember what the red one had looked like. But it was no use. The shop had gift bagged them for him and he hadn’t looked at them again.

Killua was thankful for Illumi’s phone vibrating. Killua looked over at it out of instinct, but Illumi remained still and caught his eyes again. It was from Hisoka, but that was all Killua could see. Illumi was refusing to swipe right until Killua looked away. Killua looked down at his own silent phone and heard Illumi punch his password in.

Since when was his brother huge on privacy like that? Usually it was business as always so Illumi didn’t go through pointless motions of privacy or secrecy. Did he and Hisoka send each other dirty messages? Illumi barely spoke in person; he couldn’t imagine him texting much.

Killua sent Gon a question mark to keep himself looking busy while Illumi responded to his text message. “They are ready for us to meet them now.” Illumi said as he stood and brushed off the seat of his pants out of habit, “They are calling the bus service to take some things back to the hotel.”


	5. Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was only posted three hours late!! Sorry about that ladies and gents. Long ass day. Lots of driving and labor and twisting knots into my hair (bad habit)
> 
> I've had a lot of new followers, kind anons, and nice senpais encouraging me recently so I really hope you all continue to enjoy the fic!

Outside of the mall stood Gon and Hisoka with bags weighing down their posture. Gon’s eyes lit up immediately as he saw the voodoo doll. “You got her for Alluka!” Setting down his bags he held out his arms to take the now gendered doll from Killua. Handing her over to Gon he noticed Illumi handing off their candy bag to Hisoka, who accepted without complaint before picking up Gon’s dropped bags too. “I can’t believe you managed to get enough tickets! You were floundering pretty badly at that pachinko machine.”

Killua cleared his throat lightly and didn’t answer. He still felt bad for letting Gon run off without having noticed his announced absence. He hoped his gambling problem would fail to come up again. Admitting it or denying it would make him feel equally shitty.

“You see? I returned your apple back to you unbruised ♦” Hisoka tried to punctuate his sentence with his body but had too many bags on his arms to do anything but shift his weight from one leg to the other and pop his hip out. Passers-by turned their head to gawk at the muscular redhead striking poses with bags upon bags hanging off his forearms. Killua shielded his eyes from the crowd as if his white hair wouldn’t attract attention as equally.

When there was no response except for Gon cooing over the doll’s heart, Hisoka grunted to interject. As if he hadn’t already gotten Gon’s undivided attention for however long they had been running around together. “Why don’t you give Miss Voodoo Doll to me? The bus will be here any moment.”

Killua nodded and Gon carefully laid her across Hisoka’s bent arms as though he were (poorly) handing off an infant. Hisoka put on the air of an innocent smile, “I will take excellent care of our daughter, don’t worry! ♥”

_How had Gon put up with that for so long?_

Gon just laughed.

Illumi interrupted his laughter. “There was a correspondence telling us where to meet for lunch. Hisoka, you take our pager with you and drop off the baggage. I will go with Killu to the restaurant since it is within walking distance. Stay out of trouble. We aren’t supposed to be apart.” The hotel was only three miles from the shopping district, so it wouldn’t bother the ironclad five mile rule, but their father had made a point to say not to separate on this trip. Illumi was disobeying family rules, again, _for what purpose_? There was something suddenly suspicious about Hisoka going back to drop things off at the hotel. Alone. When Illumi could easily go with him.

“ _Oooh_ , Illumi, is that a direct order? ♠”

It was the afternoon now and the sun had started beating down with quite a bit on intensity. It was especially hot in comparison to the chilly air of the shopping mall they had just come out of. Illumi methodically rolled his black sleeves up to his elbows and re-buttoned the cuffs to keep them firmly in place. They were perfectly even.

Killua had been sweating all morning, and wondered how Illumi was still wearing a black shirt layered underneath a sweater vest in July. But then again, he had rarely ever seen Illumi in shorts, like a normal human being, in the summer.

“No. You will intentionally disobey it if I put it under that category.”

“You do know me so intimately.”

“ _Gag!_ ” Killua interjected, arms crossed.

“ _OH,_ ” Gon exclaimed, as if the mention of their intimacy had reminded him, “do you know what happened to Illumi’s nose, Hisoka? You guys weren’t fighting, were you? I wasn’t trying to tattle on you if you were.” He sounded as though he had nearly forgotten to ask something that had been on his mind the whole day. The fact that Gon hadn’t remembered to ask about Illumi’s nose when he had been alone with Hisoka was a miracle.

Illumi was standing right there, but Gon only addressed Hisoka.

Illumi had said he would be going ‘with Killu’.

His brother and Gon were working hard to avoid each other’s existence. Given not only the history of their limited interactions but what they knew of each other from both Killua and Hisoka’s mouth, Killua couldn’t exactly blame them. He wondered how much Illumi knew of he and Gon’s adventures—both the good and the not-so-healthy aspects.

Hisoka chuckled but made no signs of answering. Killua looked down the street to anticipate the bus that would be taking Hisoka out of Gon’s range of questioning. Hisoka looked at Illumi, as though to force an interaction between him and Gon.

Gon pivoted on a sneakered foot to squint up at Illumi’s nose, “although I don’t see what the big deal is about such a tiny thing. Everyone looked so freaked out, but you guys are assassins.”

“That’s kind of the point, Gon.” Killua jumped in, hoping to be the catalyst for any other topic but this one. “No one gets the better of a Zoldyck. Even injuries on a job are rare.”

Gon tapped his own nose thoughtfully. “He could have bumped his nose?” Gon was used to bumping into things. Killua had seen him stub toes on multiple occasions: on tables, chairs, and even street corners when he wasn’t paying attention. Even though he glanced up at Illumi’s nose again as if staring long enough would help him see exactly how it had happened, Gon seemed to have no issue with talking about him as though he wasn’t present.

“He’s too graceful for that.” Killua said simply, regretting it as soon as it came out of his mouth.

“It sounds as though you may have just gotten a compliment, dear Illumi.” His quips were lot less suave while he looked like a television boyfriend carrying all of the shopping bags his girlfriend had piled on him.

Illumi’s lips slowly parted to respond, but the bus pulled up.

As soon as Hisoka had been loaded onto the bus with the rest of the shopping bags, Killua pulled their pager out of Gon’s bag. His face was pink from the accidental compliment, but it could easily be passed off as the heat. Illumi looked too pleased for his own good.

“You broke the rules again.” Killua drawled.

The moment the compliment had spawned was buried. Illumi lost the small bit of expression he was beginning to reveal. He stayed silent until Killua had located the restaurant mentioned in the correspondence and started in its direction.

Illumi’s voice was low as he replied, “I did no such thing. I merely didn’t stop it.”

“That’s like lying by omission. Stop letting Hisoka do whatever he wants while you’re supposed to be watching him!”

Illumi should have at least gone with Hisoka and Gon on their outing. Killua wouldn’t have had to worry so much if Hisoka wasn’t always given enough leeway to kill a man. Giving leeway to him despite him being the type of person he was was reckless, especially given the way Zoldycks were expected to protect their own from people like him. It was special treatment; Hisoka had never done anything for their family, and Killua couldn’t stand the thought of his brother giving his fuck-buddy a pass just because he got him off.

“I am as responsible for letting Hisoka wander off as you are for letting your guest wander off.” It was an obvious dig about Killua’s gambling. Illumi wouldn’t let it go. He would surely run off and tell their father—just when Killua was beginning to feel as though he were regaining some kind of respect despite the strain of him still refusing to move back home.

“I’m sorry, Killua!” Gon whined, “I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.”

“Its fine, Gon. Don’t worry about it.” Killua wanted nothing more than to tell Illumi to fuck off. But that would betray his cool demeanor and make Gon feel worse.

He tried to bite his tongue.

He really did.

But he didn’t quite make the count to ten in his mind. He couldn’t let things sit like this. “I just assumed you were the responsible adult party here. My mistake.”

“You’re not a child anymore.” Illumi’s voice was tense, and it made Killua uneasy. What had he said that managed to make Illumi rise to meet his argument? “You merely want to be treated like a child until it no longer suits you.”

Gon was visibly uncomfortable. Indecision flashed into his eyes about whether to try and butt into the conversation as a buffer. He had never seen Illumi get like this before.

Killua rarely saw him get like this. It was like he was channeling their father on a bad day when the weight of everything he had to do to run the family was finally starting to get backbreaking. What complete nonsense. Illumi didn’t get the privilege of getting pissy at him. He wasn’t their father. Killua stopped and turned to face Illumi, feeling the heat rising up his collarbone. “And you only want to treat me like a child until it no longer suits _you_.”

“Don’t be stupid. If we treated you like the child that you act like, you wouldn’t be still running around playing vagabond hunter.”

He had news for Illumi if he thought that Killua would run home scared again. The needle was gone now. Killua felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up from the static roaming over his skin. Gon noticed it immediately and grabbed both of Killua’s arms, “Killua, it’s not worth it, right? Let’s just get lunch. I’m really hungry!” Killua ignored him. Illumi shoved a hand in his shallow pocket, either bluffing or fondling a needle.

Gon fumbled with something to say that would diffuse the situation. It was escalating too quickly.

“What’s with this _we_ shit? This is why none of our brothers like you. You keep trying to be a parent when we’ve already got two. You’re the murder machine. Why don’t you just go back home and take out some more targets? _You aren’t needed_.”

Illumi took a deep breath, obviously exasperated. “Killu, you know I would never speak ill of Mother and Father—”

“ _Then don’t_.” In Killua’s mind was the image of his father listening intently as Killua told him about the Hunter Exam. Silva’s face had been kind and calm; he had been the only one to tell him he could go with Gon. To have friends. To be his own person. All Illumi had done was scare him into coming back home and then hadn’t even been there when they had thrown Killua into the isolation chamber. “At least Dad does things he thinks are best for _me_ and not just the family.”

“Everything I’ve ever done has been for you—”

Blue eyes visibly dilated, “Oh! You mean _torture me_?” Killua couldn’t believe what he hearing. His fists were shaking and his vision was starting to cloud over. Gon took Killua’s fist in his hand and gently touched the back of his hand with his fingertips—trying to bring him down from his flared emotions.

Illumi’s forehead wrinkled and his eyes showed age despite his expression barely shifting. His hand slipped out of his pocket and fell to his side as though he had no more strength to hold his arm up. “That wasn’t my—” He stopped as though he had run out of breath. Like his head was underwater and there was no air left in his lungs to send bubbles to the surface.

“Wasn’t your _what_?” Killua demanded, not really wanting an answer. He was remembering the beatings too vividly. How he had wanted to bare his teeth and fight back as a child, but couldn’t. “You don’t have an excuse.” Killua aggressed, taking a step towards Illumi with his hand halfway into claw form.

 _Maybe he could fight back now_.

Gon grabbed him and tried to pull him back, but Killua wrenched his arm free. He looked like he’d do nothing short of take a bite out of Illumi’s dumbfounded face.

“Killua, no! It’s okay. Come on, let’s just leave—”

Illumi glanced at Gon, who was still trying to keep a grip on Killua, and turned heel to walk the opposite way. Killua was still crackling the air around them, but any hint of intensity in Illumi’s aura had dissipated. Illumi pulled his hair free from the ribbon with frustration in his movements as he widened the gap between them. He didn’t look back. It was over.

Killua felt pathetic and exhausted, although there was still a ball of energy in his lungs making his breathing shallow. It was always an endless, pointless thing to argue with Illumi. It was like trying to drink water to stave off an appetite. Nothing had ever been solved by arguing with him. It didn’t feel solved now either. He just had a lot of pent up energy that juggled his guts uncomfortably.

“Are you okay, Killua?” Gon spoke up, looking shaken up as if he had been anticipating a deadly fight to tear the street apart any second. Illumi was dangerous, and the last thing Gon wanted was for him to be the only one capable of stopping a ruthless scrap between two assassins.

“I’m sorry, Gon.”

He had barely gotten the words out of his mouth before he had Gon’s tan sweaty arms around his neck. Killua hugged him back and felt childish. He had opened that can of worms in front of Gon about the torture, made Gon worry, and nearly made a scene in a busy shopping district during the lunch rush. If he had engaged Illumi into the fight that had seemed imminent, people would have been hurt. Gon may have been used by Illumi to gain leverage. Not to mention the strain it would have caused on his relationship with his father. The entire family would have been at risk if two Zoldycks began fighting full force on such a highly publicized island.

And Killua had been about to strike the first blow like an impulsive jackass over some snide words.

But Illumi had backed off. It wasn’t like Illumi to let Killua stop him from lecturing and getting his shitty jabs in. It was rare for Killua to put him down faster than he could bite back and come up with more smartass things to say. So Killua had dug his claws in (nearly literally) after that. The only thing that had been on his mind was winning. To make Illumi lose for once. To find the wounds and stuff them with salt.

But what had transpired wasn’t Killua winning. Illumi wasn’t participating. He had walked off. It didn’t seem like a strategic walkaway, or like he thought he had already won. He had just walked off. Killua felt hollow for having thought it was a victory.

They made it to the restaurant early to see most of the family there. Of course there was no Illumi or Hisoka. They had a table reserved and Milluki had already started heavily eating while the rest of them had light conversation. They had obviously finished their shopping early, or someone would have been late. They were carrying no bags, having given them to servants to take back to the hotel. Instead of letting a rogue guest run off and do it against the rules and all common sense.

Kalluto and Alluka were sharing a bowl of ice cream (despite it looking like they hadn’t had lunch yet) and giggling behind their hands. They wrote and crossed things out on a napkin until they saw Killua and Gon come in. Alluka stood up and waived, calling for Gon to come over. Killua started after him and Kalluto said: _not you, brother_.

So Killua strolled around the other end of the table, eyeing his two little brothers and Gon already sharing in their secret excitement.

Kikyo caught his attention, “Killu, do you know where Illu and his guest are?”

“No idea.” He said, his voice betraying him more than he would have liked. He hadn’t meant to give such a sharp, defensive response.

His mother looked hard at him for a moment before saying, “Could you go get your Mama a drink? I’m totally parched.”

Was that why she was asking where Illumi was? He always was willing to get her small things and do jobs she requested (like handing out the pagers) to appease her in situations where most of the family would ignore her; she requested these things specifically of him and not the butlers. _To see just how much her children loved her_ , she had said. Her idea of love was loyalty tests that typically only Illumi passed. No one else let her have her way all of the time. Killua didn’t want to start playing her games now, but had didn’t want the topic of Illumi to crop up again once she started into hysterics over him refusing her request.

And Killua had nothing better to do while waiting for his brothers and Gon to finish having their secret meeting anyway.

He brought back the drink; Kikyo had pulled out her phone, making what looked to be the same phone call over and over again. “Illu’s not answering!” She cried, turning to Silva. “Use the pager!”

Uh oh.

Silva typed out a message on the pager and sent it, only to receive an instant reply from not-Illumi. “The magician says Illumi should have gotten here with Killua and Gon.” He looked up at Killua. He didn’t need to say it.

“Alright, he was with us. But he ran off. I don’t know where he is now.”

“Why did he let _that_ guest go off by himself? This isn’t like him. Why did he run off?” Kikyo shrieked, causing everyone in the vicinity to stare.

“Hisoka was taking the shopping bags back to the hotel. I don’t know why Illumi let him…”

“Killua…”

“He and I fought—well, not fought—argued. He walked off. I didn’t go after him. It’s not my job!” His voice slipped into a whine and it caught Milluki’s attention. His lips arched in a smirk at not being the only one having family troubles over vacation.

He didn’t know the half of it.

Killua didn’t say anything further to protest. He didn’t want to be on Milluki’s level. But he hated being put on the spot to explain himself as though he were on trial. He had done nothing wrong.

Silva looked briefly at his wife before she began to drink her lemonade. There was an unspoken agreement between them to discuss it later in a less public setting. “Very well. I suppose there’s nothing we can do. I would have thought you two could keep it under wraps for a single week so we could vacation properly though.”

* * *

 

That evening when they got back to the hotel Illumi was still missing.

Gon and Killua went back to their hotel room to shower the sweat off and rest up until the family met up for Killua’s birthday event. The hotel room was spotless, the beds were made, and Alluka’s voodoo doll was propped up on the bed. It had been such a long day that Killua had forgotten it had ever been a wreck, but now thinking about how much work the staff had to have done to clean it put a dull throb of embarrassment back into his chest. He flopped down on the clean and neatly made bed sheets. Gon flopped down next to him.

“Who’s showering first?” Killua lazily asked as if he didn’t want it to be him.

“Where do you think your brother is?”

“Huh?” Why would he bring that up now? The fight itself had been exhausting enough without thinking of where Illumi was hiding out or what he was doing. Maybe he was at a bar getting adult wasted. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

“You really don’t?” Gon sounded mildly offended like it was a mutual friend of theirs that had gone missing. This was the boy who pursued an absent father for years of his life, Killua reminded himself. Taking that into account, he was hardly surprised at Gon’s expectation for him to care about his brothers. Even if they were proven assholes.

“He’s fine, Gon. He’s just mad.”

“I suppose.” Gon kicked his shoes off and couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Have you guys ever fought like that before?”

“Kind of. Not really.” Gon sighed loudly and Killua reevaluated his answer. He apparently wanted to know, and Killua’s half-assed answers weren’t cutting it. “I mean, we’ve definitely gotten seriously close to physically fighting like that before. But we’ve never really…brought up the stuff that got brought up. The stuff about our parents and the torture.”

“Do you think it really wasn’t his choice?”

“What?”

“I mean that seems like what he was going to say. ‘It wasn’t my choice’. Do you think that was just an excuse?”

Killua hadn’t known what excuse he was trying to make. It all had been too heated. Even Gon’s explanation didn’t really make sense. The torture wasn’t his choice? “There’s a lot of things he could have meant.” Killua settled on instead. Gon nodded in agreement.

“I hope he comes back. I’m really divided on how I feel about him.”

“He’s obviously coming back. What’s there to be divided about? He’s just…manipulative. And creepy.” _And perverse_.

“I don’t know. He seems to care in a really creepy way. I hated him after what he did to you at the Hunter’s exam, but he doesn’t seem _that_ bad. That was years ago, you know? What if I jumped to conclusions too quickly? We’ve met bigger assholes than him.”

“I don’t know how you have the energy to be contemplative, Gon.” Killua forced himself to sit up, and then stand, “I’m grabbing the first shower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only a half-chapter, technically! I originally had this combined with the next chapter, but Killua's birthday is on Tuesday and the content is about Killua's birthday party, so I figured it would be perfect to post on his birthday and just break up the two parts into two chapters!!
> 
> So please check back on Tuesday to see the next chapter!


	6. Dumb Luck Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Killua!

When they were both showered and redressed in nicer clothes (Gon’s outfit having been bought that afternoon post-lunch, and all of his clothes washed before the evening) they gathered in Silva and Kikyo’s hotel room. It was slightly larger, contained a single king-sized bed, and was arranged with more open space than Gon and Killua’s was. There was food catered in, and a three-tier cake on a small dining table next to the table of catered food. Presents sat on the neatly made bed and there were a few modest streamers and light decorations.

Everyone but Alluka had grown out of heavy party decorations; he was sitting cross-legged on the floor blowing up extra balloons with Hisoka. Hisoka had to have swiped them for him because their parents would not have wanted extra balloons rolling around on the floor taking up space without purpose in a room this size.

There was no Illumi in sight—just Hisoka using his pinky to tie the balloons that Alluka couldn’t tie by himself. Kalluto was sitting with them making paper doll decorations of their family to hang. Hisoka leaned over after lightly bunting a balloon into the air, looked at Kalluto’s dolls, and used his texture surprise to put the hair and clothes on the shapes of the respective family members. Kalluto smiled brightly.

Zeno was in a recliner watching the T.V. on mute when the balloon descended slowly onto his lap. Milluki was wandering around with a camera on his neck like every year, snapping photos of whatever Kikyo pointed out. The cake, the decorations, the food, and she and Silva standing together in front of it all. Not the children and Hisoka on the floor, however. They usually avoided getting Hisoka in family photos. Everyone said ‘Happy Birthday’ and lightly applauded when Gon and Killua walked in. Another balloon sailed lazily through the room.

“Awh, I thought they were going to jump out and yell!”

Killua was nearly as amused by the thought of his family doing that than at the fact that Gon had seriously expected that of his family. Did that kind of thing even happen outside of television? “It wouldn’t have been a surprise anyway, Gon. And where do you think a guy like my dad would hide?”

Alluka jumped up and kicked a balloon on his way to hug Killua, saying ‘Happy Birthday!’ again and announcing that he and Hisoka had blown up 15 balloons. His jaw hurt, he said. But Hisoka did most of them. Hisoka was really great! Why did no one tell him that Hisoka was fun?

Gon and Killua exchanged a look of concern before deciding in unspoken but certain terms that they would not break it to Alluka, but just keep him away from Hisoka from here on out. “That’s nice, Alluka, you did a good job!”

“You have to open mine and Kalluto’s present first!” He pulled a small wrapped rectangle from his pocket—about the size of a miniature notebook. The wrapping paper had hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades on it. Killua grimaced. Hisoka had been bored while Illumi was missing.

“We have to do the cake first, Alluka.” Kikyo chimed in, reestablishing her control of the parties like usual. Things always had to go in their expected order.

Killua took it from Alluka, winking at him to assure him it would be priority. Alluka grinned and went back to sit beside Hisoka on the floor.

“Killu, you still haven’t heard from Illu, have you?” Killua shook his head, and Kikyo placed a hand on her cheek dramatically, “At this rate, he won’t be in any of the photos! _Oh,_ this is so unlike him. First his red little nose and now this!” She turned to Hisoka on the floor, as if suddenly remembering he existed only through the nose discussion at breakfast, “ _You_ haven’t heard from him, have you?”

Hisoka plastered a fake, lazy smile across his now-painted face. “Afraid not.”

Killua glared at him. He didn’t believe for a moment that Hisoka had not heard from his brother. As much as it irritated Killua to think about, they were too close to not have traded details about the entire argument already. Killua half-wished someone would confiscate his phone and prove him a liar while finding out exactly what he and Illumi talked about.

Gon was ogling the chocolate cake with blue bolts of lightning running down the sides, clearly impressed. Three-tier cakes were on the smaller side of what Zoldycks usually used for celebrations, but having only immediate family on vacation to celebrate in a (small) room together diminished the amount of tiers considerably, although it never came close to being fully eaten during the party. Milluki usually took the leftovers back to his room.

Killua thought about the cake he had gotten from Illumi and Hisoka earlier that morning. He still had no idea why they had gotten it for him. But it didn’t matter at this point; what was left of it was being washed out of hotel bed sheets.

Kikyo clapped her gloved hands together and gathered everyone around the cake in a sing-song command. Zeno groaned as he got out of the chair and was the last to join. Silva lit the cake as per tradition and Killua blew them out. Gon looked around like he was expecting a birthday song. Killua had put a halt to that tradition a long time ago—once he had felt he was too mature for it. Kalluto had soon followed suit with his birthdays. Killua wondered if next year during Alluka’s birthday he would hear the family awkwardly mumble the happy birthday song under the threatening gaze of their mother again.

Killua and Gon ended up plopping down on the floor near Alluka, Kalluto, and Hisoka with their cake and dinner. There were plenty of places to sit other than the floor, but Hisoka couldn’t be bothered to stand up and Alluka seemed reluctant to leave him. Killua wasn’t about to let that interaction go unchecked. Alluka had even given Hisoka a slice of cake so he didn’t have to get his ass up off the floor. Killua frowned and stabbed his cake.

“I’ve had a busy day of gift wrapping ♣” Hisoka said conversationally, gesticulating with his fork.

“Yeah, thanks for that” Gon said, smiling at Killua sheepishly to counter his look of disbelief.

“ _That’s_ what all of that secrecy was about?” Killua asked, “A gift for me? Gon, that wasn’t necessary! In case you can’t tell, I have way too much shit already.”

“But it’s the thought.” Gon said matter-of-factly. “I wasn’t going to _not_ get my best friend something! Besides, I think you will like it!”

Killua didn’t know what to say without sounding awkward or ungrateful.

“Don’t thank me, little apple. You owe me. ♠”

“ _What_ ”

“Killua, don’t be mad!” Gon leaned over and put his forehead on Killua’s shoulder, “I just had to borrow some money for your gift! It’s not a lot. I made a deal is all. It’s no big deal, I can handle it!”

“Jesus, Gon, you borrowed money from this psycho?” Alluka was looking back and forth, listening to every word. He didn’t understand why Hisoka was _this psycho_. “ _What deal_ ” It was a demand. Killua was staring a hole into Hisoka’s head. Hisoka smiled and stretched his legs out as if he were he were home alone relaxing.

Gon pressed his forehead into Killua harder, causing both their centers of balance to waiver. “I can handle it, Killua!! Don’t worry about it, okay? Just—open your gift from Alluka! You’re finished with your cake right?”

Alluka slid across the floor until he his knees collided with Killua’s and said, “Open it, brother, please!!”

Gon had played that card well. It was sickening that he not only owed Hisoka money but an additional mysterious something, but Alluka was riled up to the point that any further discussion not pertaining to his gift would not be tolerated. Killua took out the small (very much a notebook) gift and unwrapped it. Kalluto leaned in and Killua made sure to smile at him as well. He was such a shy kid.

It was a notebook with stickers on the cover. Hearts, puppies, kittens, stars, and cupcakes. Not exactly the most masculine thing to make use of. He had barely glanced at the cover when Alluka yelled (very close to his ear) “OPEN IT!”

The first page read:

_Killua’s Coupon Book:_  
made by Alluka and Kalluto Zoldyck _♥  
_ _with the help of everyone else, too_

There was a drawing of Killua and Alluka beneath it, with Kalluto having cut out and colored a paper doll of himself to glue to the left hand of the Killua drawing. The drawn Alluka was holding his right hand. The next page read:

_One hug from Alluka, redeemable at any time with this coupon!_

Alluka had signed the bottom and doodled himself hugging Killua. Ah. Killua understood now. He and Kalluto had made a book of redeemable deals, favors, and various exchanges from Kalluto and Alluka. All hand-made and drawn on. Killua wondered how long they had been working on it.

“There are coupons from everyone in there!!” Alluka could barely contain himself, hands on Killua’s knees as he leaned over and started flipping the pages himself. “See, there’s Gon! There’s Grandpa—there’s Hisoka! Do you love it??”

Killua grinned and grabbed Alluka and nearly pulled them both the rest of the way to the floor. “I love it!” Killua’s hand snaked out and grabbed Kalluto’s wrist, pulling him in too despite his quiet protests. He hugged both of them at once, Alluka laughing and telling Killua he was embarrassing Kalluto too much. “Oh, shit. Do I have to use my coupon for this?”

Alluka giggled and said, “Not since it’s your birthday, but you’ll have to pay up next time!”

When they parted, Gon grabbed the book and flipped through it, having only seen a small portion of it when he had made his coupons. Killua was given more presents to open as the flash went off on Milluki’s camera.

Zeno had gotten him another skateboard (fitting, since he had been the one to get Killua into skateboarding) with a small, high-powered rocket motor on the underside of the deck, and a huge manual that had made the box weigh the considerable amount that it had. As if Killua would end up reading it.

Kalluto and Alluka had additionally gotten him the remaining volumes to a series of comics he had been reading before leaving home. Kalluto muttered “ _I may have snooped in your room to find out which ones you had_ ” but Killua didn’t mind if it was Kalluto.

Milluki had gotten him a brand new laptop; which was only fitting since he had broken Killua’s laptop last year during a squabble over superior video games.

Silva and Kikyo had gotten him a few new weapons—nen-enhancing yo-yos, bladed shoes, etc.—and birthday card with a photograph of a blue and white small hot air balloon waiting for him back at the Zoldyck manor. Killua thought Gon was sure to die of excitement before the vacation could end. He wanted to see it, he wanted to ride it, he wanted to pilot it, he wanted to show it to Leorio, and did he mention he _really_ wanted to ride it?

In a long box with Gon’s name and a heart written (not in Gon’s handwriting) at the top was a brand new fishing pole with the tag still attached. It had been already been threaded with fishing line and was set up with a neon green lure. Killua picked it up and instantly noticed the similarities it had with Gon’s, except this one looked newer and had a sleek black color scheme instead of Gon’s natural tans and browns. In the bottom of the box were new spools of fishing line and rubber bait.

Killua twisted the rubbery yellow and black worm imitation between two fingers and Gon grabbed the other end to stretch it. “It’s so you don’t have to touch live bait,” Gon grinned and snapped the bait back into Killua’s fingers, “since I know how you freak out about worms~”

The handle of fishing pole felt smooth in his hands and he appreciated how much thought had been put into it. It had probably cost a lot of money and it was of no surprise that Gon had not been carrying enough to pay for it. As much as he was looking forward to Gon teaching him how to fish as they breathed in the calm air on Whale Island, he wasn’t sure it was worth whatever he had promised Hisoka in return for the loan. If only Gon had been honest with him and had asked to borrow the money from anyone but Hisoka.

But he wouldn’t make Gon feel bad about it. He would just help Gon deal with whatever consequences came his way and protect him from Hisoka.

He flashed Gon a brilliant smile and said “Thank you” as the suddenness and sincerity of it made Gon’ cheeks redden but he made no attempt to hide his earnest joy. Killua appreciated it. That was worth the heavy sticker price. Maybe they would finally get back to how they were when they first met; Gon could ride Killua’s new skateboard and he’d teach Killua to fish. Things had been so muddied between them that any hope of clearing the water made appealing to Hisoka worth it.

“There’s one present left!” Alluka interrupted their lingering exchange of expressions and took the fishing pole from Killua’s hands to set it off to the side with his other gifts. The last present was wrapped in the same wrapping paper the coupon book and Gon’s present had been in. That is, it had also been wrapped by Hisoka.

“It’s Illumi’s,” Hisoka said, placing it on Killua’s lap, “he wants you to go ahead and open it.”

“And how would you know that if you haven’t heard from him?”

“Does your brother usually care about doing things properly?”

Hisoka gave him a smile that said he would go back and forth with him for as long as he continued to resist. He had been in contact with Illumi and they both knew it. No point in arguing. Go ahead and open the damn present already. Illumi didn’t care enough to see him open it, so why should he care? He tore off the wrapping paper and opened a medium sized box that revealed a video game and a bulk box of chocorobos.

Illumi had never gotten him a game before that he hadn’t specifically asked for; he was too ignorant on games and refused to ask for Milluki’s help. Killua picked up the video game and recognized the title. And the scribble across the front.

“Cosmic Crusader? The director’s cut?” They didn’t sell these anymore. He had looked for it at the Yorknew auction last year, but Illumi had no way of knowing that. He hadn’t told anyone he had looked for it. Milluki had been looking for it too, for years, actually; he leaned in to grab at it. Killua whipped it away from his grasp as Milluki roared _is that signed?!_ Killua stared hard at it and searched his memory for anyone else that could have known about him liking this game. “But he would have had to find this on Zanzan…in the shops today.”

“Should I tell him you like it? ♦” Hisoka smiled, snapping a picture with his phone since Milluki was too flabbergasted to take any photos.

“ _How?_ ” At least in his and Milluki’s world that was the most important question. Even outside of the years of searching—Milluki had been on his cell phone all day checking for deals. If this had been up for sale anywhere, it certainly would have gone on the radar. “The arcade? But this would have been a top-ticket item displayed in the main glass cases near the entrance. I would have noticed it! And an hour would not have been enough time to win enough tickets for something like this.” _And still have enough left-over for Alluka’s voodoo doll_.

“Mmm, yes and no. It was complete chance, really. Those tickets you used never belonged to Illumi. We were looking for you when they held an impromptu tournament in skeeball and he happened to overhear the prize and entered. Oh how he hated everyone starting at him and cheering. He covered his nose a few times when a camera flash went off—he’s so sensitive. ♥ But he scored all perfect games. I grew bored waiting for him and played around for tickets. Then I found Gon and handed my balance off to Illumi.”

“ _Overheard the_ —how did he know I was looking for the director’s cut? He doesn’t know the first thing about games.”

“To be entirely honest, I’m not sure he knows the value of it. He recognized the title from your texts years ago—he saves them for situations like this when he doesn’t know what you like. Oops, probably shouldn’t have let that slip. ♦” He would have let it slip had Illumi been standing right next to him too. “He assumed it was a valuable copy simply because it was a prize in a tournament and a lot of people were losing their heads over it. He said he was going to find you something else in case it wasn’t all that valuable, but then he took off. I guess he got lucky.”

“Killu doesn’t even play games anymore! This is such bullshit. Hey, I’ll buy it off you.” It was probably a good thing Illumi was too stubborn to ask for Milluki’s advice. Had he asked Milluki if it were of value, Milluki would have lied and told him it was worthless—then traded him for something ‘better’ “Come on, Killu. You could take your nice little date out or something—you’re never home to play games anyway!” He reiterated, squinting at the signature as if trying to personally authenticate it.

“Shut it, Milluki.” Killua gently put the game back in the box and took out the chocorobos. How completely uncreative. And he had just had cake, but somehow he felt as though he needed to at least open it. Hisoka’s phone made a mechanical click from the camera application. “ _Will you cut that out!_ ”

No one was giving him a second to think. The situation was confusing and overwhelming and probably wouldn’t have been less so even if Illumi was present. Gon fished the game out of the box and looked it over with a small _ooooh_ although he had never heard of the game before. Milluki knelt next to Gon and stared at the case as Gon turned it over in his hands and opened it.

“My present for you is in your room~ ♠” Hisoka whispered, making sure to drag his voice into a lewd drawl. He had been in their hotel room while Gon and Killua were walking the city. Of course he had, Killua thought, the doll had been propped up in the room. Hisoka had taken that opportunity to hide some kind of perverse present there to give himself an excuse to spend time in their room. Killua wondered if Illumi had originally been part of this plan as well. It was hard telling. Maybe he would be waiting there when they got back to the room—completely having faked running off to corner Killua in his bedroom with Hisoka again. He wouldn’t put it past him.

Killua looked at the game in Gon’s hands, trying to figure out what exactly this valuable, dumb-luck gift meant. Should he text Illumi a ‘thank you’ in substitution for him not being there? Thank you’s were an automatic formality in person, but would it seem authentic coming through a text? Killua wasn’t sure he wanted it to at this point. It was too soon after their squabble and Killua didn’t want to seem as though he had backed down or pity texted him to get him to show his face again. Neither of them were how Killua felt he needed to deal with this situation.

Everyone was quickly sick of each other’s company. Zeno snored in the recliner, and his plate of food was barely balanced on his knee. He could somehow sleep through Kikyo’s orders of telling Silva to text Illumi again. And to call him. He hadn’t taken a pager with him—and his cell phone GPS was turned off. She wasn’t worried—she knew Illumi was in no danger. But Illumi wasn’t one for defiant acts like this; this small insolence would show in the fact that he wasn’t around for the photos. She wouldn’t be able to forget about it for as long as there were no pictures of him. Not that they ever sat down and reminisced over pictures; they were but into the underground rooms for storage and forgotten about.

Milluki was snapping random photos at stupid angles and chucking to himself. Kikyo wasn’t about to let him put down the camera while they were still trying to reach Illumi, so he started to entertain himself.

He took multiple photos of the game at different angles with Gon holding it and making faces in the background. Hisoka ended up in some photos with Kalluto and Alluka—Kikyo would surely complain if Milluki let them be printed. He snapped obnoxious photos of Killua eating chocorobos, and that was all Killua could take.

“Alluka, come to our room for a minute—we found something for you in town today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not be posting as originally intended on Friday due to the posting of this chapter today, but I will make the announcement on my blog!
> 
> Look forward to some Hisogon content next chapter!


	7. Flushed Apple Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underage drinking and hisogon-esque content ahead. This is unedited as of right now (because I have birthday plans to attend to) so let me know if you see any errors! Hope you enjoy ♥

Alluka tackled the doll to the bed before Killua could get a word in edgewise. He shrieked happily and kicked his legs on the bed in excitement.

“I’m sorry for not sitting next to you on the jet, Alluka! And for hanging with Gon constantly.” Killua set down his box of presents and sat himself down next to Alluka on the bed and petted his head softly, “I hope you’re still enjoying your first family vacation.”

Alluka nodded, peeking out from under his bangs, “Last night playing games with you and Gon was great! And me and Kalluto had a lot of fun today making your coupon book and shopping for your comic books!” He rolled over onto his side, still clutching the voodoo doll to his chest. “It’s just nice having everyone together. I don’t remember the last time everyone was together like this. You don’t have to babysit me, brother.” He sat up and rested his chin on Killua’s shoulder, quietly saying, “And I know you like Gon.”

Killua jumped slightly, not expecting such a straightforwardness from Alluka. If anyone could pick up on his conflicting feelings for Gon, it would be Alluka. “Jeeze, Alluka, don’t call your brother out like that!” Killua didn’t bother to whisper, and Alluka fell back to the bed in fits of giggles. Best not to deny it too strongly or Alluka would really get suspicious of how true that statement was. And it seemed to comfort Alluka to think of him and Gon in this imagined relationship. Like they were an item and Alluka was a little brother to the both of them.

Gon set Killua’s skateboard down next to the rest of the presents and picked up the coupon book—apparently having not yet read every page. How many were there?

Hisoka had wandered into the room too, determined to watch Killua search for his gift. Gon plopped down next to Killua and Alluka on the bed, and Alluka bounced up and off the mattress. “I will see you in the morning, brother! I’m going to go save Kalluto from Mom and show him my new voodoo lady!” He shot an obvious look in Gon’s direction while Gon’s head was still bent reading the book. Alluka leaned in to kiss Killua on the cheek and whispered, “ _You should kiss Gon!_ ” before laughing and running out of the room.

Maybe Killua was letting Alluka’s perceived relationship go too far. Hopefully he could keep his delusions—that may or may not be based on actual feelings—to himself so as not to complicate things further. Killua looked over his shoulder at Gon, making sure he hadn’t heard anything. It was just the two of them and Hisoka now. Gon shut the coupon book and jumped up, the tension in the air killing him.

“I’m going to look for your gift!”

Hisoka chuckled, and took a seat on the back of the couch to watch Gon’s every movement as he searched. “You’ll be disappointed if you think I bothered to hide it well. Killua would have given up or not searched at all if I had. He’s so stubborn.”

Hisoka was right on all accounts. Killua stubbornly laid on his back like he wasn’t interested in where Gon was looking or what he would find. Gon quickly found the box stashed beneath the bed. “It’s solid!” He announced. Killua kept his eyes on the ceiling. “Come on, Killua! Open it. I’m dying here.”

“You open it.”

“He’s too cool to be interested in it, Gon. Just open it for him.”

Gon brought the box over to the bed and set it down near Killua’s head before unwrapping it pointedly to where he couldn’t miss it. “Whoa it’s—alcohol?!”

Killua sat up at that, and looked in the box to see bottles of alcohol. Vodka, rum, and some beers were lined up with some bottles of soda. Gon looked up at Killua as though he were afraid to touch them; maybe they were booby-trapped or the authorities would knock on the door the second he picked one up. Killua picked up the bottle of vodka and used his gyo to examine the contents. Nothing seemed amiss. Everything was still sealed.

“Oh dear, is there alcohol in there? I thought I bought you some gourmet bottles of soda. How irresponsible of me. ♣”

“What gives? You can’t intend to give this to us. My parents are a few rooms down—and what about Illumi? Does he know about this? He will have a fit.”

“I don’t need to consult your brother. You seem to think he has a lot more control over me than what he does. And don’t worry, I won’t let you do anything stupid. You’re looking at a top-notch supervisor for the inebriated.”

Killua narrowed his eyes, not at all thrilled with the idea of Hisoka supervising them drinking. But he had always wanted to get drunk. He didn’t know much about it—only what he saw on television—but once he had seen a few off-duty butlers drink. They had stumbled around like jackasses. It looked like they were having a blast even though they were doing nothing particularly exciting. He had never seen his family members drink, although Hisoka had mentioned going to bars and drinking with Illumi.

Gon’s eyes were still wide on the bottle. Hisoka couldn’t take his eyes off Gon even though Killua was the one who he had just given a present to. “If you try anything funny, I will fight you. Family rules be damned.”

“Don’t be such a tough boy. You know what that does to me. ♥ I have no intentions of doing anything more than watching drunk teenagers fall all over themselves. Be forewarned though: I don’t clean vomit.”

“Is this really okay, Killua?” Gon seemed a bit nervous, but wouldn’t take his eyes off the bottle. “I don’t want to vomit.”

“It will be alright. We aren’t in any danger even if we act stupid or feel sick.”

“So glad you trust me.” Hisoka stood up and pulled two glasses from out of thin air, juggling those in one hand, he similarly retrieved a deck of cards. “Allow me to teach you boys some drinking games.”

They discovered very quickly they couldn’t stand the taste of beer so they both passed off their open bottles to Hisoka. Hisoka made them drinks mixed with the gourmet soda, but not before he goaded them each into trying a shot of alcohol straight. He immensely enjoyed watching their faces twist in disgust. Gon coughed as it went down, and Hisoka rubbed his back gently while earning a warning glare from Killua. Gon blinked hard to clear the tears from his eyes; he drank from the mixed drink to wash out the burn.

Punctuated by small residual coughs he said, “I’m a bit dizzy already.”

Killua finished off his mixed drink to catch up to Gon. Hisoka scattered all of the cards on the floor face-down and sipped on the boys’ discarded beers. Killua had heard somewhere that the effects of alcohol varied with height, weight, and body fat distribution. He and Gon were about the same size so why was he feeling nothing? He demanded that Hisoka mix him another drink even though he currently had no penalty from the cards. He wondered if his assassin training would affect his ability to get drunk.

An hour later the bottle of vodka was empty and Gon was a giggling monster. Killua’s stomach was upset from downing so much liquid in such a short amount of time; he had switched to straight shots of vodka a while ago. He felt as different as he would if he had ridden a spinning amusement park ride. He spun the empty bottle of vodka and knocked it over. It clattered loudly on the floor and Gon spun it further—completely uninterested in the cards at this point. Hisoka scooped his cards off the floor, eyes not leaving the sight of the drunkenly happy boy playing with an empty bottle.

Killua managed to lock eyes with Hisoka, taking his sights off Gon. Hisoka leered at him. “Is there a problem, birthday boy?”

“You seem to already know.” Killua stared at the rest of the bottles still on the bed, “alcohol is poison, isn’t it?”

Hisoka laughed aloud, setting his deck of cards down so he wouldn’t drop them. When he opened his eyes again they were alight with joy. His look said it all: _Even a Zoldyck boy with such a past can be cutely naïve_ _♦._ “Please excuse me, I’ve never heard those words spoken aloud before. But so very true. Adults sure are strange, aren’t they?”

Killua was less than amused. He had been pointlessly downing disgusting liquid all night. He’d already had to pee twice in the short span since their drinking started. Hisoka had knowingly let him drink nearly an entire bottle. Knowingly let him look like an idiot for not knowing that alcohol was poison at fourteen. “Happy birthday to me, huh? What was the point in all of this?”

“Killua, don’t look so down! Man, that stuff tastes awful, but its reeeaally fun.” Gon crawled over and laid his head in Killua’s lap, staring up at him with wide, glossy eyes, “you’ve looked so sad today.” A hand reached up and fumbled with the frowning corners of Killua’s mouth, “I’m sorry you fought with your brother.” Gon’s fingers smelled like vodka and were sticky with soda.

Hisoka slipped his eyes closed and said, “Happy birthday to you. ♥”

The bottle was accidentally kicked across the room with a clatter as Gon put a leg in the air and twirled his foot after not having realized he had been laying on it; he was sloshed. He only had one sock on—Killua had been so busy squeezing his eyes shut to knock back shots that he hadn’t noticed. This was the plan all along then? Hisoka was giving him this clumsy little drunk, gift-wrapped and delivered to their shared hotel room. There didn’t need to be next-morning regrets about impulsive birthday frottage between two drunken teenage boys. Gon would probably just smile awkwardly after waking up and say _at least we had fun on your birthday_!

The gift was a green-light for Killua to eat his heart out. Gon’s fingers lingered around his mouth. Killua had to pee again. He had started to worm slowly out from under the weight of Gon’s head when the boy sat up startlingly fast. He looked at Hisoka as if he had just noticed his presence in the room. “I forgot about the debt I owe you, f-for letting me borrow that money!”

Killua hadn’t thought about asking Gon when he was drunk; Gon would definitely tell him then. Tell him openly with a red face and slurred words.

Hisoka put on his sweetest smile and deflected, as if knowing Killua was dying to know what the debt was. “I told you that it can wait. It doesn’t have to be now. Anytime at all is fine.”

“But I have—but I, I’m drunk now. It’s gonna be a lot easier if I’m drunk, right?” he looked back and forth from Killua to Hisoka as if looking for both confirmation and permission. “I was dreading it, but I don’t think I,” he stopped mid-sentence as if to think about it one more time before voicing it, “I don’t think I really give a shit right now.”

“ _Oooh. Really now?_ ♥” It came out as a moan.

That was not a good sign. Killua could hear Hisoka’s nails starting to scrape along the hardwood floors. The possibility of it being sex had not crossed Killua’s mind in any serious sense. Gon wouldn’t agree to it, would he? And surely Hisoka knew better than to try that. Killua would strike him down right away—which would snowball into Hisoka making an enemy of every Zoldyck. Here on this small island Hisoka had no other allies. He wasn’t that stupid. Maybe he had intended to collect the debt later when the vacation was over without Killua ever having found out what the debt was. The slimy fucking parasite.

Gon stood up and fumbled with the button on his shorts, fingers flushed and coordination failing. Killua’s throat jammed. What could he do or say to stop this from happening? He forced his mouth open and realized he had been clenching his jaw. Before he could say anything and before Gon could get the button undone, Gon stopped and laughed, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay this’s harder than I thought.” He walked over to the bed and the sound of the seal breaking on another bottle of alcohol seemed to fill the room. Gon eyes traced the floor for a moment before deciding he no longer cared and put his lips to the bottle of rum. Sweat collected under Killua’s arms watching Gon’s uneven posture as he swallowed the liquid in hard gulps.

Hisoka was ecstatic. His tongue shot out and grazed his top lip with his eyes resting on Gon’s throat. “You can now put on your resume that you’ve knocked back rum to strip for an older man. Who knew alcohol could ripen fruit so? ♣” The smugness in his voice was overlaid by something deeper and more like the Hisoka that had strangled those men.

Gon recapped the bottle clumsily and rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. He was either trying to wipe away a wetness or wake up his brain to comprehend what Hisoka was saying. “What resume? What’s a resume?” He didn’t wait for a response before his fingers went to his shorts again, finding the zipper easier to do and unzipping it first. Killua couldn’t just let this happen.

“Whatever it is, I want to make a counter-deal. Hisoka, I will do whatever it is Gon was supposed to do for you. This is fucked up. He can barely stand he is in no condition to agree to anything!”

“No deal.”

“But—”

His voice was firm, absolute. No playful hum to his syllables. No room to interpret it as teasing. “He agreed to this sober. I didn’t trick him. I told him he doesn’t have to do it now, but I’m not taking substitutes.”

Gon finally got his button undone. He hesitated with his fingers resting in the waistband of his shorts, looking at Killua. He was trying to blink away some unknown thing making his vision swirl. “Iss okay, Killua. I jus haveta show him my ass.”

“Wait, what?”

“I jus gotta show it to him!” Gon said as if that had clarified his point any further. He tried stepping out of his shorts slowly, but as soon as he picked one leg up he stumbled and had to catch himself on a knee. He kicked his legs free of them and grabbed the tightly tucked bedspread to pull himself back up.

From the waist down he was left in a pair of grey briefs and one sock. He had bright tan lines where his shorts usually hit him that started above the line of his underwear and stopped abruptly mid-thigh. In comparison to the rest of his tanned body the unexposed skin looked to be Killua’s skin tone.

He took a deep breath and walked swiftly over to Hisoka, stopping only a foot or so away from him—Hisoka’s face level with his crotch. Gon was having apparent depth-perception issues; there was no reason for him to be standing that close to Hisoka for this kind of thing. He turned around and faced Killua—ass in front of Hisoka, so close that he could easily reach up and grab it. Hisoka kept his hands to himself, resting them in his lap to half-heartedly cover his erection. His smile had thinned in excitement.

Gon’s eyes met Killua’s, both of their faces flushing furiously. He widened his stance, determined not to fall over this time. Killua didn’t know if he could watch, but told himself that he needed to make certain Hisoka would not behave inappropriately or touch Gon at all. That wasn’t part of the deal. Gon’s thumbs tucked in next to his hipbones and pulled his underwear down in a single fluid motion, bending over to pull them down to his ankles as though he had to be completely thorough about taking them off. He should have just pulled them down in the back.

For fucks sake. He was bending over in front of Hisoka. Legs splayed. Everything displayed. This was above and beyond what the deal entailed—all because Gon was too drunk for his own good. His hips and butt were brighter than Killua could ever imagine Gon’s skin could be. He had caught a glimpse of curly black pubic hair before Gon had bent over. Killua felt his dick reacting; betraying his drunken best friend who was showing his asshole to a gross pedophile.

“ _I never ask’d how long_ ” Gon slurred. He went to right himself, underestimated how heavy his chest and shoulders were, and barely caught himself from falling forwards. His hands were flush on the floor in front of him as if he were doing a stretching exercise and Killua jumped to his feet to help the poor boy. The clown had gotten enough of a peepshow.

He hadn’t crossed the floor to where Gon was before Hisoka stood and gently helped him up under his arms. Hisoka still had an obvious erection, but he didn’t seem to be making any kind of a move. He looked at Killua expectantly, and his eyes dipping down to motion towards the underwear pooled at Gon’s feet. Killua kneeled and pulled them up, past the tan lines on his legs, and pulled away quickly as soon as they were sitting rightly at his hips. He felt like his fingertips were burning. He had tried not to look at Gon’s penis—his reacted even though he told himself that he hadn’t been staring.

Gon being upright was entirely at the mercy of Hisoka’s hands—one on his shoulder and the other still under his arm. Hisoka spun him around slowly—ignoring Killua’s sudden incoherent protest—and put an arm under Gon’s ass. He lifted him up like he weighed nothing; Gon compliantly wrapping his arms around Hisoka’s neck to steady his spinning world. Killua could only watch, still crouched on the floor with his guilty boner, as Hisoka shifted to holding Gon with one arm and started to clear the bed of alcohol bottles, soda bottles, and discarded coupon book. Gon muttered to no one and groaned, wrapping his legs around Hisoka’s waist to make everything stop moving.

He untucked the covers with one hand and shuffled pillows. He hesitated with Gon still clinging to him for dear life. He ran a finger down Gon’s back, following the trail of his spine, and Gon squeaked and jumped a bit. Hisoka took that opportunity to lower him onto the bed—Gon making a noise of protest like he thought Hisoka was going to drop him off a building. He probably couldn’t tell the difference. But he hit the pillows and smiled up hazily at Hisoka, “I’ll pay you th’ money back.”

Finely sharpened nails contrasted against the soft comforter as Hisoka covered him up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m entirely satisfied with your enthusiasm for repayment alone. ♠”

Gon nodded like he understood but his eyelids were more closed than not. The rum dragged him under and a second later he was breathing steadily. Hisoka stood there for a few moments longer as if reconsidering being a decent human being, an aura in the air that Killua couldn’t recognize, but pivoted on his flats and made a beeline for the door.

“Make sure you put some water beside his bed.” Hisoka said simply, bothering to look Killua in the eyes for only a moment before looking directly at his tented shorts. He expected Killua to take advantage of the situation still. Killua felt his disgust for Hisoka resurge and wondered how the man managed to catch him off guard by the simple action of tucking Gon into bed without blatantly violating him.

Hisoka shut off the light on his way out.


	8. Killu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is almost entirely sexual content. You have been warned. Enjoy the groping now, kiddos, because it's gonna get heavier in plot after this!

Killua knelt in the dark unable to get the images of Gon out of his head. He could hear Gon’s calm breathing and wanted nothing more than to go check on him to make sure he was going to be alright. No, that was a lie. He wanted to throw the comforter off Gon’s body and see his tan lines again. Get a closer look at how much he had changed from when they bathed together two years ago. Wake Gon up and see if he would be as drunkenly shameless with him as he had with bending over for Hisoka.

He couldn’t believe he was like this despite what Illumi had done to him that morning. Leaning against the foot of the bed Killua slipped his hand in the waistband of his shorts and tried to keep the images going. Gon would be fine for a bit—he wanted to get this over with so he could cuddle up next to Gon and watch his sleeping face for any differences from the alcohol.

His hand made everything worse.

It was clammy and calloused.

He had never really noticed that his hands weren’t very pleasant, but it was painfully obvious now. Masturbation wasn’t exactly normal for him—he wasn’t usually in need of it like this. That wasn’t to say he had never masturbated before—when he had stumbled upon a porn channel and Gon had been in the bathroom taking a bath last year he had managed just fine. But that had been with visual and auditory stimulation. There wasn’t a lot of work to it and it hadn’t taken him long at all. The other times he had tried—well, it hadn’t been easy for him.

He didn’t want to masturbate. He didn’t want to learn. It was messy and a lot of work for an orgasm that was nothing compared to those he had experienced with Illumi’s mouth. He had never hesitated to text Illumi before meeting Gon.

After Gon he had kept his need of it to a minimum. But now these stupid circumstances kept popping up, and suddenly masturbation became something he felt miserable for not having learned.

His hand was too tight, too lose, still cold in comparison to his dick. He adjusted his posture as if that would help, but the images in his head were going cold and his erection wasn’t.

Panting, he cursed and let go of his cock.

It was Illumi’s fault. If Killua’s sexuality hadn’t budded with his thighs nestled in Illumi’s hair he would have learned to masturbate like a normal preteen. Now his own legs were sweaty and sticking to a cold floor in the dark at the foot of the bed his drunken best friend was sleeping on. A painfully hard erection and an intense hatred for his own hand. He couldn’t stand his own introspection at how far he had fallen. He just needed a fucking release.

Hisoka was probably in his and Illumi’s room, alone, making the most of the feeling of Gon’s ass on his forearm. The sight of Gon’s slightly parted bare ass so close to his face. Masturbating and not caring if Illumi came back and walked in on him.

On instinct, Killua thought about texting Illumi. Who knew where Illumi was—running around town in a rage. Killua had told him he wasn’t needed. He was only good for assassinations. It wasn’t quite true. He could really use his brother’s other talent right now. Would he even come back if Killua texted him? Had Hisoka already texted him for the same reason? For some reason the thought of Hisoka having already texted him made Killua pull out his phone. The background of he and Gon blinded him horribly since his eyes had adjusted to the dark. How long had he been sitting here trying in vain to get himself off?

He was _not_ about to text Illumi.

It had years since he had texted Illumi like this. He wasn’t that pathetic anymore.

_God, he just wanted to have an orgasm_.

Maybe he would just text him to see if he _would_ come. To gauge how angry he was. To see if he was okay. To see if he was pathetic enough to come even if he was still angry with Killua. Yeah.

Killua punched in his password and exhaled hard out of his nose.

_1:57_ Killu: _Can you come here?_

As Killua hit send he was sure Illumi wouldn’t come. He didn’t want Illumi to come. If Illumi came it would be like old times again; him horny and writhing around in his bedroom until Illumi slipped in and quietly got him off. Coddling him as always like he couldn’t handle himself. Like he couldn’t get himself off without Illumi’s help.

He couldn’t.

He helped himself onto shaking legs with the comforter the way Gon had drunkenly done. The floor had been cool, but the silent air was suffocating him. He needed away from Gon’s earshot and the atmosphere where he had tumbled out of his shorts; he knew he would probably have to wait for his erection to settle on its own.

Killua remembered that the large window had a glass door component; he unlocked it to step out on the balcony. It had no handle—it was a sliding door, and the last time he had been here he had also overlooked it until the last day and regretted not making better use of it. Come to think of it, this was probably how Hisoka and Illumi had sneaked into their room that morning. Fresh air was exactly what he needed.

The night was cool but the air was humid from the hot springs on the other side. The city lights reflected in Killua’s eyes, but he didn’t bother to stare out at the scenery as he slumped down against the railing and sighed heavily. He thought about trying to touch himself again since he was out of that quiet room. He settled for checking his phone again.

Not that Illumi ever answered him to begin with. It was always a given that unless he said ‘no’—which was an occurrence very few and far between—that it was a yes and Killua would get what he had asked for. Now he wasn’t so sure. He had chosen the wrong time to test out the validity of Illumi still being his errand hound; he had really fucked up with their fight. Not that he regretted it, but with this extra variable there was no way of knowing why Illumi didn’t show up. And even if Illumi hadn’t checked his phone at all, he eventually would, and he’d see the pathetic text indicating that Killua had been vying for a sexual favor.

Killua _did_ regret the text. He closed his eyes and knocked his head back on the rails. And over again. And over again. His embarrassment slowly distracting him from his uncomfortable situation.

“Killu?”

A cold sweat layered onto his already grossly slicked skin as his eyes shot open. Illumi was perched on the railing, sweater vest folded over his arm and sleeves still rolled up perfectly to his elbows. A few buttons were undone from his collar—he had been in the July heat for at least a good portion of the day. Killua swallowed hard and realized how desperately thirsty he was. He didn’t know what to say. In Illumi’s other hand he limply held his phone. Killua felt his face burning—he looked at the limestone tile flooring, tracing the wispy patterns of gray to avoid Illumi’s gaze.

Illumi didn’t move. The silence was more strangling than it had been in the hotel room with sleeping Gon. They both knew why Illumi was here. They both knew why Killua had texted him. No doubt Illumi had already realized he was still stiff beneath his shorts.

“W-why did you come?” It was harder to coax his voice into working than he had anticipated. It came off as a weak statement and not the demanding question it was intended to be. Why had Illumi shown up? Why was he just standing there? Normally he would have already crawled between Killua’s legs and done whatever he wanted—but he wasn’t moving. Surely he was still upset and mocking Killua by standing over him and staring down wordlessly.

Illumi didn’t say anything.

He wasn’t going to take this shit. Killua stood up and Illumi jumped off the railing in simultaneous reaction, landing with a nearly soundless tap of his shoes on the tile. “ _Where were you_?” He didn’t feel like having a discussion on where Illumi had been but he needed to fill the silence. He needed there to be words between them instead of the weight of Killua’s reasons for calling him here.

Illumi closed the gap between them with now confident strides as his sweater vest dropped to the ground, phone landing on top of it. A cold hand was on the side of Killua’s burning face—Killua still refusing to look at him, staring at the glass door beside him. He couldn’t see into the room because the glass reflected the city lights too brightly around his and Illumi’s silhouettes. The cool fingers laced into his hair and pushed it away from his sweaty forehead.

“Killu,” Illumi said softly, leaning down and placing his lips slowly to Killua’s exposed hairline. Killua slipped his eyes closed on instinct, aware that he was surrendering to Illumi’s coddling, and reached a hand out to grab a handful of black fabric on Illumi’s chest. A few more buttons fell loose with the weight of Killua’s arm, and Illumi leaned back to look him in the face. Killua’s hand fell free, and he opened his eyes to give Illumi a frustrated look—eyes mixed with indignance and impatience.

Illumi’s lips parted slightly—his restrained look of contentment—and leaned in again to kiss Killua’s brow. He was always like this when Killua let him. Reverent and platonic as if it had anything to do with getting Killua off other than dragging out his frustration. His night had been way too long for this achingly slow game Illumi wanted to play. He took a step forward and wrapped both his arms around Illumi’s neck, black hair falling onto Killua’s shoulders as he pulled Illumi down by the back of his shirt.

Insistent. Reminding him why he texted him.

Illumi’s breath came out in a satisfied sigh on Killua’s neck as he wrapped his arms respectively around Killua’s back and butt and lifted him. He was reminded instantly of Hisoka lifting Gon, but soon his legs were around Illumi’s waist and his crotch pressed between them and he couldn’t bear to compare the situation anymore. He held on for dear life, and was grateful when Illumi’s fingers landed on his lower back and traced light circles.

Illumi fully supported his weight despite that how hard Killua was clinging he could have easily hung there himself. He ground himself into Illumi’s abs and moaned; no matter how hard he rocked back Illumi kept hold of him and didn’t hinder his twisting. Killua was a small form of pure muscle and Illumi’s strength was much bigger factor than the last time they had done this; if Illumi’s balance hadn’t been impeccable he could have dropped him. The legs of his shorts were bunched up above his thighs and the hand holding him up made subconscious ticklish scratches on his hamstrings.

He was now grateful he had come out on the balcony.

Illumi’s hair was as fragrant as always and smelled exactly like the same specialty products that he had been using since Killua was little. It had never changed scents. Killua wrapped himself in the nostalgia, and it helped him let go. He couldn’t be bothered to think about his pride and age when Illumi’s nails were trailing gently down his buttocks. The elastic of his shorts and underwear were moved and hooked under his ass so the wandering hand could continue touching unobstructed. Killua’s breath was coming out too quickly for him to breathe through his nose anymore. His mouth fell open and panted next to Illumi’s ear.

“ _Please,_ ”

He’d end up drooling in the crook of Illumi’s neck at this rate. He didn’t want to get off in his shorts in a desperate dry humping. He whined in Illumi’s ear when the man seemed hesitant to stop playing. He found himself sitting on Illumi’s forearm entirely and was pulled away from the warmth so Illumi’s other hand could snake in between them and give a few gropes to his aching dick. It wasn’t meant to get him off—Illumi gave him a small smile now that Killua had been forced from hiding in the black veil of hair. His touches got lighter until he was barely ghosting the fabric of Killua’s sweat dampened shorts.

Killua dug his nails into Illumi’s shoulders to force him to get on with it. He wasn’t in the mood for playing. He had made that perfectly clear.

He heard a small gasp from Illumi, but his mind was too hazy to be shocked over the response he had elicited. He felt his fingertips wetted with blood and wondered halfheartedly just how far he had dug.

“ _Killu—_ ” Illumi sounded as though he couldn’t catch his breath either. Illumi pulled his small frame closer again for only a moment before sinking to his knees, and kneeling with his knees folded beneath him. He pulled Killua from him and gently laid him down on the cold tile—Killua’s legs resting on his thighs and hanging off around his hips on either side. Illumi pulled his shorts off gently and his underwear quickly followed to the small pile. His butt was flush with Illumi’s knees—a position that was too close for Illumi to bend over and suck him off. Killua started to crawl further back but Illumi grabbed under his knees and pulled him back.

“Wha—” Killua had no time to reorient himself when Illumi’s hands were on his hips and his lower half was lifted straight up. Killua’s legs nearly hit Illumi’s arms but Illumi let go with one hand after getting a hand under Killua’s lower back, and he put Killua’s dangling legs on his shoulders. Killua’s shoulder blades against Illumi’s knees now. Illumi had never done this to him before. For some reason that made him nervous and his legs shook at seeing them framing Illumi’s face. His knees were locked firmly on his shoulders, but Illumi replaced his hand on Killua’s hips to hold them. “W-what are you doing?”

Of course he received no answer. The incline on his body shifted as Illumi put his lips on his balls and he disappeared from Killua’s line of sight. There was a small squeak that had certainly not come from Killua’s mouth, and his arms shook as he attempted to keep himself balanced. His nails _tick_ - _tick_ -ticked on the tile, not used to having nothing to grab. The city lights were so bright he couldn’t see any stars before he shut his eyes and tried to suppress his vocalizations. They were outside, after all—there was still risk of being heard outside of a no-vacancy hotel so close to the city.

As if in response to his determined silence Illumi lifted his lower half further and his legs had to fall forward, ass completely exposed. Illumi had a firm hold on him, but if Killua hadn’t been so flexible he would have fallen. He felt the warm wet sensation travel towards this new territory set before Illumi’s face, and Killua’s back tensed automatically. “ _What the fuck are you doing!_?” Came out of his mouth much louder and creakier than he wanted. He felt one hand move from his lower back and caress his hip gently. That was all the response he was going to get.

Illumi’s tongue continued and Killua shut his eyes tightly. The caressing fingers on his thigh did little to relax him. He was completely on edge, thinking about the fact that Illumi was—that _his brother_ was going to lick his asshole. He couldn’t just let this happen. It was humiliating and fucked up. But this position was compromising and he couldn’t reach Illumi to force his head somewhere else. He couldn’t do much at all other than anticipate the tongue inching closer.

If he hadn’t already been so desperate to get off he would have fought harder.

It was a sensation that he had never felt anything similar to and his brain hummed in pleasure. A moan escaped him despite there being too little air in his lungs to breathe properly. This encouraged Illumi and the intensity was upped; he wasn’t holding back anymore despite Killua not having warmed up to the sensation yet. The feeling of saliva dripping down his ass caused his dick to twitch and he could no longer keep himself quiet.

His moans got louder and tapered into throaty cries that made Illumi stop for a moment in concern. Killua screamed at him, “ _Fuck, d-don’t stop!_ ” and Illumi spread his cheeks further, tongue putting only enough pressure on the opening to get his own enthusiasm across. He was writhing in joy hearing Killua make himself hoarse. Of course, Killua’s throat had already been parched to begin with.

Killua knew he wouldn’t penetrate him—even though that was the furthest thing from his thoughts at the moment. He had no thoughts at the moment.

His hips gyrated, but he seemed to have no control over it. He bit his own lip to try and shut himself up, but it only made him have to pant to re-catch his breath. The desperate cries came out with his heavy breathing until he would rather bite his tongue off than hear his own pathetic voice ringing in his ears. Surely he had woken up everyone on floor seven at this point. Was he calling out to his brother between sobs? God, he couldn’t care less.

Illumi graciously reached around his leg and gave his dick a few solid strokes—he saw white instantly and it was the hardest orgasm he had ever experienced. He probably would have heard how loud he had been if the blood hadn’t been rushing in his ears. But his throat instantly hurt. The hand stopped tugging but he still had the sensation of Illumi’s mouth landing silent kisses on his butt cheeks. Then on the inside of his thighs as Illumi lowered him gently back into a resting position on his lap. Killua let himself drop off his extremely sore arms as he threw them over his face to block the lights of the city and Illumi’s gaze.

He caught his breath to the feeling of cum soaked into his shirt and cooling on his lower abdomen. His ass was still wet and the night air made him shiver. Illumi leaned forward and grabbed the back of his shoulders—pulling him up to sit on his lap and lean limply against his chest. Killua wrapped his arms around Illumi’s neck again, his brain was dead weight, and he wanted to feel embraced as his body finally relaxed. The smell of Illumi’s hair made him inhale deeply. Illumi absentmindedly rubbed his hands over Killua’s bare thighs to warm them. It was comforting.

“Where were you?” Killua finally asked again. His throat was killing him but he really wanted to know this time. Illumi shifted so he was reclined against the railing with his legs bent in front of him; it was more comfortable for Killua to lay with his weight on him at this angle, and he wondered if Illumi had done it for that reason. When he didn’t answer Killua felt a surge of worry and went to repeat the question again.

“I took out a target.” His voice was as even and calm as always, but Killua could tell he knew the weight of what he said. This was worse than he had thought.

“You— _what_? Are you stupid?!” His own exclamation made him cough and Illumi’s hand went up to rub his back instinctually. “What is with you today and breaking rules—Mom and Dad will—I don’t know what they will do if they find out you’ve fucked up this badly.” Illumi’s breathing was even but Killua couldn’t see his face. He wondered if Illumi had an erection, and knew his brain was deliriously exhausted.

“They will find out. He was fairly high-profile. The body will be discovered in less than three hours.” He didn’t sound worried, and Killua felt himself wanting to hit Illumi. At that thought he unwound his arms from Illumi’s neck and noticed the blood on his hands and forearms. Illumi’s shoulders hand four marks in each one—he had already gotten violent. Shit.

“Why would you do that…?” He felt defeated. He could threaten this man and claw him into mincemeat but it never seemed as though anything affected him enough. The silence droned on. Illumi didn’t like explaining himself. As if his motivations were always so obvious. Killua reached up and picked the bits of ripped shirt from the claw wounds and then wound his fingers through Illumi’s hair absentmindedly. “Just because I said you weren’t needed?”

Illumi shifted at that, and Killua thought perhaps his motivations were easy to read after all. “That’s stupid—I mean, I was angry. You don’t do something like that just because I tell you off, you idiot.”

Surprisingly, Illumi’s chest moved in a small laugh. “Even after all that you still try to order your big brother around. That won’t do, Killu.”

Whelp. That was as close to an apology as the two of them got. It looked like the fight was over in one fucked up burn out. There was no need to dwell on it anymore. Illumi’s hair was soft and made his fingers feel even rougher. Just how much maintenance on his hair did he do on a daily basis? Maybe Killua would look into some kind of hand moisturizer. “Your present was—um, thank you. I opened it already since you weren’t there, but it was great. You should have seen Milluki’s face, he was so jealous he tried to buy it from me!”

“Did Hisoka spill the entire thing to you?” He sounded happy despite him trying to layer it in resentment for Hisoka.

“You really shouldn’t trust him with your secrets. He looked delighted to tell me about the texts.” And there they were again, back to the texts Killua always sent and Illumi always catered to. It wasn’t something Killua was proud of—but at least he knew where they stood as far as that situation was concerned. Illumi was still willing to drop everything and answer. Illumi was the simple one; Killua was the one thinking that anything at all had changed. “What did you mean today when we were fighting? That it wasn’t your choice? I mean, is that what you meant—”

“Killu.” He stopped him instantly with his voice as mechanical as when he spoke of a kill. “We aren’t talking about that.”

“…okay.” There was no room for him to push back. It was the most dangerous topic on the table between them; he could probably talk about his adventures with Gon and get less hostility. He’d find out though. He would make it a point to find out. It was eating at him.

He felt himself slipping further away from his own thoughts as he finally let go of Illumi’s hair.

“Happy Birthday, Killu.”


	9. Penitence

Killua awoke in the far corner of the room in the bed that had previously been unused. With Gon’s body warmth in the other bed, he had shivered himself awake. How had he gotten in this isolated bed? Half-asleep, he dragged himself out of the cold sheets and dropped himself onto the bed with Gon, who was snoring lightly from being far under in an alcohol-fueled sleep.

 As if sensing the warmth immediately, Gon rolled over and pressed against his side, shivering, and intertwined his legs with Killua’s. His skin was cold, and he was still only wearing his underwear, a thin tank top, and one sock. His eyebrows were furrowed, and when Killua shifted he groaned. The boy looked miserable. It was no wonder with how much he had had to drink. Killua shut his eyes again and tried not to think about anything that had happened, but it all tumbled into his mind. Gon’s ass, Hisoka’s perverse smile, Illumi—

Illumi had accepted a high profile assassination job and carried it out against the express wishes of the family. Killua still couldn’t believe his brother would pull such an idiotic move. He knew better—he had taught Killua to know better than that even. For some reason Killua couldn’t just lie there and go back to sleep without seeing the situation resolved. He was wide awake.

He untangled his limbs from Gon’s gently and slid out of bed. He knew enough about alcohol to know Gon needed to sleep it off more. He grabbed the remote next to the bedside stand and found the button to close the huge curtain to the window wall. There had been no chance that Gon had seen him and Illumi last night on the balcony—but he still wished he had closed them last night. The room was much darker. He dragged the comforter off the other bed and layered it on top of Gon to help with a bit of his shivering and got Gon a glass of water from the mini-kitchen. He felt bad for not having done so last night.

He went to the closet to get dressed and realized that he was wearing pajama pants, a clean t-shirt, and a clean pair of underwear. That’s right. He had fallen asleep on the balcony in a cum-stained shirt and nothing below his waist. His fingers still had blood on them. He felt disgusting, but there was no time for him to shower. He quickly got dressed and looked at the time. It was 8am and his parents were definitely awake by now.

He needed to find Illumi.

It didn’t take him long to see that things weren’t right. Hisoka was standing outside of his and Illumi’s hotel room, dressed in running shorts and leaning on the doorframe. He didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular—but he wasn’t just hanging out either.

“Where’s my brother?”

Hisoka pointed down the hall towards their parents’ room. They had no doubt summoned Illumi there as soon as they had woken up and discovered the report broadcast on TV.

Killua didn’t ask why he was standing outside of their room, but knew that it was probably out of concern. He had been in contact with Illumi, after all. The silence of Hisoka’s answer allowed the sound of Kikyo’s voice to be heard muffled behind the door. She was screaming loud enough to pierce the walls.

Leaning against the door, Killua shamelessly listened in. He had never in his life heard his parents berate Illumi. They had never needed to. It was a given that they scolded each child differently: they were always considerably softer on Milluki than they were on Killua, but something told Killua that the oldest would take the blunt force harder than any of them.

His mother was in hysterics so intensely he couldn’t make out her words, but his father’s voice was raised as well. That rarely happened. “What were you _thinking_? Not only could you have compromised this trip, but the safety of our home while we are away. What will you do if our home is attacked? Or are you naïve enough to think our butlers cannot be bested by our enemies?”

Illumi wasn’t saying anything.

“What about your younger brothers? If we go to town today and someone has realized we are the Zoldycks we could have a hostage situation on our hands. You will break it to everyone that we will not be allowed to break group at all.”

Then came a barely audible, “Yes, father.”

“And don’t think we’ve forgotten about the fact that you allowed that dangerous transmuter to leave your presence only _hours_ after I laid the rules down regarding the matter. Even after we have consistently allowed him to keep coming along despite our better judgment. This does not look good after you took matters into your own hands with the…Alluka situation. Killua still doesn’t trust you after that and I understand why.”

Killua’s hands felt cold. How often did they talk about him when scolding Illumi?

“ _And_ you were absent at Killu’s birthday party!” Kikyo’s shrill voice had clarity now that they were talking about Killua, “How do you think that will look once the pictures come out? Honestly, getting him a lousy little game and some chocolate when your brother Millu got him a laptop! How do you think Killu felt? That clown was there, but you weren’t! _That boy_ was there, but you weren’t! How is he supposed to feel like we are a family? And now you’ve gone and done this! You’re trying to wreck Killu’s birthday and I won’t have it!”

“I would never—”

Silva interrupted before any excuses could be made. “Illumi, what will you do to make this right?”

Illumi descended into silence again. Seconds ticked away. “I will go back home and make sure the manor stays secured. I will take Hisoka with me.”

“No, you won’t. It will only raise suspicion. Your room is booked for the rest of the week.” The silence grew heavy again. There was no defending Illumi’s idea; his father wanted another answer. What did he want? There was no answer. Maybe that was the point. Killua preferred the lecturing over this vile game.

He could practically picture Illumi’s eyes on the floor. Trying not to crack composure.

“I will hire someone to guard in my stead. I will pay for its entirety.”

“Really now? Is there anyone you trust enough to entrust with the safety of this family?”

“…No, Father.”

“So you’ve done nothing so far to clean your mess. So how about this: what will you do to keep Killua and your other brothers happy?”

“Anything, Father.” The answer was immediate. Certainty mixed with relief. He knew the answer to this one.

“’Anything’ isn’t an answer.”

Illumi floundered further, confidence shaken. “…what would you have me do?”

“I’m asking _you_. Don’t deflect your responsibilities onto others, Illumi.”

Killua didn’t know if he could listen to much more. His mother broke the silence.

“I know what you can do. If you’re truly sorry you’ve hurt Killu. Truly, truly sorry. We will forgive you just this once.” The sound of metal clanging onto the table with the force of her anger. Her voice was sweet and curt. Surely she hadn’t brought torture devices with her.

Killua’s hand hovered over the doorknob. He needed to do something. His name was being used like this to manipulate Illumi and the situation.

He wasn’t upset. He didn’t care that Illumi hadn’t been there. He was happy, he was fine—Illumi didn’t need to do anything stupid.

“What would you have me do?”

“Don’t be so dense, dear. You’re the oldest.” A small, playful bit of laughter then. She got like this with torture. “ _Snip, snip_. Show Killu that he means more than your vanity. He’s more precious than those beautiful strands of hair, isn’t he?”

_She wouldn’t._

“Oh, Illu, don’t look like that! You know this will be such a grand act of love for your family. All will be forgiven! Right, Papa?”

“I suppose it is appropriate penitence. Since he can think of nothing else.”

Before Killua could recognize his own actions he had thrown open the door to see Illumi, scissors in hand, staring at them like he was holding a dead animal. Kikyo was leaned over the table, looking up into his face with a childlike curiosity to her posture. Illumi’s hand was as cold as the scissors. They watched Killua passively as he threw them across the room. The blades broke apart and bounced off the wall in separate directions. One half stuck into the wood flooring with the force that had been applied, the other clanged and slid.

He felt childish along with an ugly sense of embarrassment for having revealed himself eavesdropping. He felt fury much more.

“ _What the fuck is wrong with you people?!_ ”

Kikyo brought her gloved hands to her mouth as if to make him take back his swear, “Killu! Sweetie,”

“Don’t. I can’t believe you would talk about me like that. And try to make Illumi cut his hair—” His father held up a hand that stopped him. An overbearing look that said he wasn’t about to let Killua interfere with a punishment that had nothing to do with him.

“Your mother may have gone a bit far, but what Illumi has done is unacceptable. It is not your call to make on how and why he will atone for going against family rules. I don’t know how long you were listening in, but he has put this family at risk.”

Killua’s hands found themselves on his hips as he leaned forward and looked up at his father under a cocked eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah, so he took out some big target when he wasn’t supposed to. So we just kill this client and anyone involved. You act like we can’t handle that! It’s not worth all of this.”

Silva turned to Illumi and Illumi seemed to shrink further into himself. Killua’s cocky mouth had given away that they had already had a conversation about the matter. It was obvious that Illumi had gone to him about it sometime in between last night and early this morning. The body language of the towering man said it all: it was entirely unacceptable for the oldest to burden the young heir with his screw-ups. It was a bad influence; not to mention they were having secret meetings in which they discussed family issues without the heads of the family present. It was a small form of mutiny, and Illumi was looking entirely responsible.

Killua started to shrink too as his father looked down at him above a tight-lipped frown. “You’ve got blood on your fingers.” Killua’s heart felt like it was resting at his feet on the wood floor. Silva’s sharp eyes trailed to Illumi, then back again to Killua. Nothing was visibly amiss about either of them other than Killua’s fingers. “I don’t need to bother wondering if Illumi has wounds. I don’t need to know what or why. But it’s going to stop.”

There was no way their parents knew of what went on between them; Killua wouldn’t hang his head for any kind of _secret meetings_ or whatever sinister thing being implied. They did nothing but preach at him to be close to his family, but then as soon as they find out he and Illumi had an unapproved conversation, they act like this? He didn’t even like Illumi. They weren’t about to start a coup.

Killua went to defend himself—make an excuse—he wasn’t sure which it would be until it came out, but Illumi interrupted any scathing response that might have been.

“Yes, Father. It won’t happen again.”

“Wait just a minute, I haven’t done anything wrong!” Why was Illumi so quick to take responsibility for everything? He was willing to make them both guilty of something they hadn’t done so he could bootlick and apologize for it.

Did he feel guilt over the things he had been doing with—no, _to_ Killua? No, something about his demeanor said otherwise. It wasn’t guilt over the blood under Killua’s nails or the holes in his shoulders. It was something else under the furrow in his brow that made him want to appease their father.

If the scissors hadn’t been broken, would he have gone and picked them up?

 _Putting Killua before his vanity_ —was that what this was?

“I will figure out what to do with the situation later and call you back. You are both dismissed.” He was back to the cold authoritarian that Killua had ran away from. Where was the dad that had asked about Killua’s Hunter Exam?

“Dad, I—”

“Killua. We are done here.” It was the exact same thing Illumi had used to shut him down when uncomfortable topics came up. Illumi bowed to their parents before walking swiftly towards Killua, placing a hand on his shoulder, and saying _come on, let’s go_.

It was such shit.

Killua had burst in and embarrassed himself to save Illumi’s stupid hair only for Illumi to _Yes, Father_ his way out of the room with his tail between his legs.

“Cut his hair for all I care!” Killua wrenched his shoulder free from Illumi’s hand and stormed out of the room. He passed a snickering Hisoka, who had no doubt heard the entire conversation from the hall. He had to try hard not to slam his and Gon’s hotel room door behind him before locking it tightly.

* * *

 

He slipped into the bed beside Gon and wished he had never woken up. Gon was still sound asleep and Killua was envious. He was much too riled up to go back to sleep, but in the end he decided he wouldn’t wake Gon.

Under the comforter his jeaned legs started sweating. He crawled back out to drop his pants and noticed the discarded coupon book Hisoka had put next to the bottles of alcohol. They wouldn’t be drinking again anytime soon. Killua picked up the book and flipped through it as he climbed back under the comforters. The shifting woke Gon and the boy blinked groggily, saying:

“Ugh, _my head,_ ” He flipped over onto his stomach with much difficulty and buried his face in the pillow, “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” He was in Hangover City for sure.

Killua reached over and gently ruffled Gon’s bedhead. The back of his neck was sweaty and the back of his arms had red marks from having slept so heavily on his back all night. “There’s water next to you. You need to drink it even if you don’t want to.”

Gon groaned in response and flipped over the other way to grab the water. He wasn’t in a talkative mood, which while understandable, was unlike him. How much did he remember of last night exactly? Killua didn’t know the amount of alcohol it would take for someone to lose memory but it didn’t seem as though he had had that much. He had fallen asleep, not passed out.

Not like he would want to talk about what had happened anyway. Gon took a big gulp from the glass and flipped over again to face Killua like he couldn’t get comfortable. As if shifting to a different position would stop him from aching.

“So my brother came back last night.” He felt like he had to tell someone. And it may do Gon some good to get his mind off any thoughts of last night and distract him from his discomfort. Gon made a small _hmm_ in response to let Killua know he was listening. “The asshole accepted a job under the table and took out a target.”

At that, Gon peeked his face out from the pillow, brown eyes wide. “Seriously?” He sounded weak like he did when he caught a virus. “What will happen to him?”

“Well, it already did. Mom and Dad were yelling at him this morning. It was really messed up, they tried to make him cut his hair to say sorry. He almost did it too. As if that would have done anything at all. I came in and started getting angry,” Killua leaned back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, “but then he just pacified them further and takes the blame for both of us like always. Ugh. I regret helping him. Maybe if his hair was shorter he would stop acting like a tragic and obedient tower-locked princess.” He tried to imagine Illumi with short hair and failed. He had probably had that long hair since before Killua was born.

Gon groaned again, not wanting to speak, but eventually said, “You should never regret helping someone, Killua.”

Killua considered dropping it, but something began eating at him. He wondered why Gon’s words were grating, but quickly realized. “Why are you suddenly so quick to defend him?” It wasn’t to say that Gon was an all-around saint that defended the good and never the bad, but his flippant attitude towards Illumi’s wrongdoings was a huge red flag. They used to stay up bitching about Killua’s family and Gon would laugh and berate Illumi right along with him. Make fun of his shoes, hair, and bug eyes as Killua laughed himself to tears. Suddenly—suddenly Gon was reserving the need to pass judgment? “You’re actually concerned for him now. What gives?”

Had something happened between his brother and Gon that he wasn’t aware of? No, there was no opportunity for that to have happened.

“...I don’t know. I don’t have to explain myself, do I?” Gon sounded terse, much like Illumi had gotten with him the previous day. He didn’t sound at all like he didn’t know. He sounded like a guy with a guilty conscience to protect. It scared Killua, in all honestly.

Did this have anything to do with all of the things they didn’t talk about?

Pitou’s body flashed behind his eyes when he closed them.

He opened them and he was lying in the bed where Illumi had made him writhe. Gon flipped away from him and downed the rest of the water from the bedside stand.

He didn’t want to force Gon to keep responding to him when he felt like shit. There was really nothing to say in response, anyway. He let that comment hang in the heavy air for a while as he flipped through the coupon book again.

_One fishing lesson from Gon, redeemable at any time with this coupon!_

Alluka’s art was underneath it. Gon’s spiky hair was exaggerated and he was holding a thin line that Killua assumed to be a fishing pole.

_One assassination from Illumi, redeemable at any time with this coupon!_

Kalluto’s paper doll was an Illumi silhouette holding needles. In Alluka’s handwriting was a comment scrawled underneath the doll:

 _Very creative, brother_ -_-

It was laughable. He not only had no creativity, but Killua already knew he didn’t need coupons from Illumi for him to do the kind of small things in this book. He just needed a text message. Unbelievably, Illumi’s lack of creativity was the most useful thing he could have offered. This way, if his parents tried to make him take a job in the near future, he could send Illumi off and still collect the payment. An extremely expensive coupon indeed.

 _ ~~One~~ A wealth of information from Hisoka _ ♥ _, redeemable at any time with this coupon!_

Alluka doodled Hisoka with bright pink hair under a word bubble that said “♥♠♦♣” Alluka and Kalluto had really put a lot of work into this book. Every coupon had a little doodle under it. There were probably twenty coupons in the book, and some had color. There was a knock at the door.

Speak of the devil.

“Yo~” He knocked a small rhythmic sequence into the door, “Open up, will you? For me?”

Gon pressed his face into the pillow harder. If he hadn’t remembered last night before, that voice was flooding the memories to the surface now. The tips of his ears looked red. The knocking came again when Hisoka didn’t get an answer.

“Premarital sex is a sin, boys.” He cooed, “If you wait it makes it more special. ♣”

Killua swung his legs off the bed and pulled on his jeans—again—and went to open the door. Interactions with Hisoka were always like ripping off a bandaid. His incessant knocking and his sickly sweet voice would only make Gon’s hangover worse. He unlocked the door and cracked it open a bit. “What.”

Hisoka’s foot jammed in the small crack he had made, leaning his face in and widening the crack until he could look in the room. Killua tried to keep it closed and their strengths were at an impasse until the door creaked under the force. He backed off before the door was permanently damaged—and Hisoka was able to see Gon’s limp form burying himself deeper into the bed. “So you _are_ still in the same bed. Do you think that’s appropriate? Can you two really hold yourselves back?”

“I’m shutting the door.”

“I have a message from your parents.”

“And why exactly did they send _you_?”

“Illumi sent me. He can’t look you in the face. Probably. He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Fine. What is the message?”

“I will tell him how concerned you were. He’s touched that you saved his hair. It was very sweet, and I feel I have to thank you for saving something so gorgeous.”

The door splintered slightly from the force Killua pointedly applied to it. “The. Message.”

“Sometimes I wonder if he’s more emotionally unavailable or you. But I guess it’s chicken-and-egg at this point, yeah? Anyway, your parents feel that, given the current circumstances, we shouldn’t leave the hotel today. We should enjoy the hot springs and the precious company of each other while Illumi ‘deals with this situation’. By which they mean to watch him self-flagellate. I thought I was the sadist here, but Mama and Papa Zoldyck do impress.”

Killua winced. The bandaid wasn’t coming off fast enough. “What exactly needs ‘fixed’? Was there something that went wrong with the job?”

“Mm, that’s also what I wanted to speak with you about. It seems that the job Illumi took on was a file that had already been across your father’s desk. A job that they had put off on accepting or rejecting to go on this trip—they had merely glanced at it. But now they’re thinking the timing for getting an assignment on the island is a little too perfect.”

Killua let go of the door and Hisoka stepped inside. He couldn’t mean what he was implying. “I assumed that Illumi got the assignment while on Zanzan,”

“He did. According to Illumi he was hired on the street by someone that gave him the advance in person. Someone who supposedly did not know he was a Zoldyck—just an assassin. But now it seems that this is the second time they have made this exact request, and it was made before they received an answer on the first.”

“You’re implying they knew he was a Zoldyck.” This was foreboding. “What would be the point of requesting the job of a Zoldyck a second time?”

“Not only that—they may have known we would be on Zanzan. If we are to judge by the timing and insistence of this client. The request for the job came only a week before the family was scheduled to leave for the trip.”

“Maybe he just needed the job done and when he was queued he turned to an unknown street assassin.”

“Maybe. But Milluki was told to look into it and has, with difficulty, concluded the client may also be staying at this hotel. Under a fake name, of course.” _Shit_. _Why did Illumi’s fuck-up keep getting worse?_ “The question now is: would killing him take care of the issue, or cut the head off the hydra?”

“Since he’s staying in a hotel, he doesn’t live on Zanzan. He could be planning to run. We don’t exactly have enough time to make that call. Even if Milluki is certain about him staying in this hotel we don’t have the ability to figure out who he is and kill him without drawing attention to ourselves in the timespan before he runs.”

“Yes, but it’s still the best option, if you were to ask your friendly strategist. Amazing instincts and a hot body—the complete package, really. ♦”

“Of course you want to kill him, you wouldn’t have brought this to our attention otherwise. But it’s stupid. The worst plan I’ve heard. I don’t know how you expected to be honest while getting us on board.”

“I don’t suppose you will trust me? ♠”

“You’d better have a real reason. We’re not running around this hotel looking to kill a man we don’t even know is here.”

“I was really hoping you would fill in the blanks on your own a little better first.”

“This isn’t a game, asshole!” Killua yelled, quickly covering his mouth after remembering Gon’s sensitivity. Or at least from what he understood about hangovers from the media.

“Come to mine and Illumi’s room after breakfast. Illumi won’t be there. I’d hate to keep bothering our favorite stripper. His world must be spinning this morning.”

“Get out.”

“I won’t make you use your coupon this time, but my wealth of knowledge doesn’t exactly come free. See you after breakfast~”

After Killua shut (slammed) the door behind him, he didn’t bother getting back under the comforter. He flopped down and sighed. Gon squirmed uncomfortably at Hisoka’s last remarks. At least he seemed to be doing a bit better after the water—he was Gon, after all. But the psychological wounds were undoubtedly still fresh. Killua could empathize.

“Well I feel gross now.” Hisoka’s words definitely had that effect on people. Gon forced a small laugh and lifted himself up on his arms. “I’m going to go take a long bath.”

Before Gon reached the bathroom, Killua stopped him. “Gon,” Killua looked at the floor as though he were too deep in thought to meet Gon’s eyes. His fingers were laced tightly in front on him.

“Yes?”

“You know how you said you thought Illumi meant to say ‘It wasn’t my choice’ when we were fighting?”

“Yeah?”

“…he still did it. He still tortured me. There’s always a choice.”

Gon didn’t say anything. Killua hadn’t expected him to.


	10. Up or Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy October, everyone! Have some Hisoka-Killua conversation about the fate of Illumi. Sure hope the transmuters can handle the situation better than they handle each other.

By the time breakfast had ended, Gon’s complexion had gone back to normal and he was starting to smile again. Leave it to him to bounce back from a nightmarish hangover after only one meal. But Killua was relieved that, all-in-all, nothing had gone monumentally wrong from last night’s drinking escapade. Just a lot of embarrassment and memories better left buried. No big deal.

Illumi didn’t show up at all. His absences were making more of an impact on Killua than his presences ever had in the past. He was always at every family meeting, hovering over Killua and hanging on every word his parents said. This kind of thing—these family events and interactions—seemed to be what Illumi lived for. His empty chair was a lot louder than his presence.

No one said anything about the incident, but Milluki was allowed to peck away on his laptop over his third plate of breakfast which, when combined with Illumi’s absence, was telling enough. Killua avoided the gazes of his mother and father. The only ones that spoke were Kalluto, Alluka, and Hisoka. Hisoka sat next to them and cut his pastries into thirds to divide with them so they could try each kind.

With a bit of strawberry on the corner of his mouth, Kalluto pointed to the chocolate one next; Hisoka divided it into thirds but wrapped his portion in a napkin and waved bye to the two young boys as he stood—his eyes flittered in Killua’s direction before walking off. He was still dressed in those fucking running shorts. They made whishing noises, calling attention to the existence of his retreating back. Zeno frowned heavily and cleared his throat as Hisoka exited the room. As if subtlety would do anything to solve their inappropriate clown problem.

Killua headed to Hisoka and Illumi’s room after eating, but Gon stopped cold after trailing behind him. “Hey, I think I might—just, hang out with Alluka today.” He still looked tired as he fumbled with the hem of his shirt and avoided looking ahead towards Hisoka and Illumi’s room. Even his hair was more disheveled than usual.

“It won’t take me long to get information from Hisoka, are you sure? I won’t let him say anything to you about, well, you know—”

Gon’s face went red in an instant. “I’m sure. He kept winking at me at breakfast when you weren’t looking. I’ll catch up to you when you’ve found out more about what’s going on. I want to help but I just can’t deal with him right now.” He had never been so outwardly irritated with Hisoka before. It was strange to see him so dodgy and uneasy.

“I can’t say I blame you. I will let you know what I find out. Tell Alluka I will come play with you guys as soon as I can.”

Gon nodded and made a beeline for Alluka and Kalluto’s room. It would have been best for him to keep napping off the hangover, but he probably didn’t want to sit alone in the room where his shorts were still haphazardly thrown on the floor. Killua sighed and went alone into his brother’s room, accepted by a lazy-looking Hisoka with his hair still down.

“I see you’ve cleaned the blood from your nails. What a pity. ♦”

Killua stuffed his hands in his pockets instinctually.

“You made Gon uncomfortable at breakfast this morning. Leave him alone or you’ll deal with me.” Hisoka motioned him over to sit on the sofa, but Killua stood and crossed his arms adamantly. Like Hisoka had said, Illumi was nowhere to be found, but signs of his presence were everywhere from his five pairs of shoes lined up at the door to the black, blood-stained button-down that was neatly folded on one of the beds. Killua could see the fray from where his claws had dug in. Surely Illumi didn’t intend to salvage it.

Just how much did Hisoka know about last night?

Where Killua and Gon’s room had the default settee stood a vanity that matched the wood of the coffee table. Killua never questioned the default suite layout offered by the hotel, but he had never seen Illumi staying in a room without a vanity. His hairbrush, comb, and various bottles of hair product were perfectly aligned on the stand; from the mirror hung a light blue headband that he no doubt wore to push the hair back from his face when washing it at night. Killua stared hard at it to try and ascertain if it was one of the ones he had gotten for Illumi. He couldn’t remember.

“You talk big even though you and I both know I could easily ‘deal with you’ ♠” Hisoka said as he sat at Illumi’s vanity, shuffling through the drawers and taking out his makeup. His voice was contemplative and not at all threatening. Killua wondered how Illumi found it acceptable to share a vanity with Hisoka. Illumi didn’t let anyone touch his stuff or use his products. “It _is_ a Zoldyck curse, I know, but it’s still a bit pathetic.”

Killua huffed. This is why he had hoped Gon would come with him. Alone time with Hisoka was just as agonizing as he had imagined it to be—being put down and challenged by a clown doing his makeup.

He ran the scenario in his mind: if he and Hisoka ever fought seriously; over and over again, no matter how many handicaps he had, Hisoka came out on top by a great divide. Killua ended up either incapacitated, humiliated, or both. How could he help it? He hadn’t had as many years to hone his nen abilities the way Hisoka had. What was he, thirty?

But then, Killua thought, if these scenarios were realistic, it would never be a fight just between Hisoka and him.

“You could beat me in a fight, but you’re fooling yourself if you think Illumi would take your side.” It didn’t matter what he and Hisoka were to each other; Illumi breathed for family. If Hisoka decided to go rogue and fight Killua, Illumi would be on the scene immediately and take him down.

“But you don’t know that for sure, do you?” Hisoka stopped as though he had forgotten his hair was down, and grabbed the light blue headband. He looked at Killua in the reflection of the mirror as he pushed his hair back with it. Killua moved out of the line of sight of the mirror and wandered towards the bed that had been designated as Illumi’s by the presence of the ripped shirt. It was neatly made while the other bed looked slept in. Had Illumi made the bed perfectly, not slept at all, or slept with—no, _in_ the same bed as Hisoka?

“Yes, I do.” That headband wasn’t the one he had gotten Illumi for sure. Maybe it didn’t even belong to Illumi. Illumi probably kept his things hidden from Hisoka. Those products weren’t his either or Hisoka wouldn’t have his hands all over them. “He only tolerates you.”

“But you were so sure that he and I were keeping in contact when he disappeared. But now we’re not close at all. You’re full of contradictions. ♣”

The energy of the banter crumpled. The clown was quick to shut him down and he couldn’t keep up with sassy quips alone. Killua picked up the shirt and ran a finger along the damage. Underneath it was the rest of the outfit, also neatly folded. He considered tossing it so their parents never had the chance to see it. It was a dead thing that held memories uncomfortable to recall. But it would only raise suspicion with Hisoka, who would run and tell Illumi, who would think that him getting rid of it meant more than what it did.

“It doesn’t matter if you are. I can’t get him to leave me alone. You think that he’d pick you over me?”

Hisoka quirked a finely sculpted eyebrow in response. “Is a fourteen year old boy trying to make his big brother choose between him and his lover? ♦”

Killua dropped the shirt messily and hovered over to the bedside stand as if he felt confident he had a right to snoop through Illumi’s things. He could feel Hisoka keeping tabs on what he was doing. He opened the drawer and in his mind dared Hisoka to say anything so he could tell him that he absolutely had every right to look through his brother’s stuff. “You’re not lovers.”

“We’re not? Odd. And here I thought I’ve seen parts of him that he’s only shown to me. ♥” He started on his eyeliner.

He could practically feel Hisoka’s nails trying to scratch their way under his skin. There was a picture frame in the drawer that held a photo of their family. He picked it up, wondering why he kept it in the bedside drawer instead of displaying it. Killua looked to be about five, a big smile plastered on his face, and being held by Illumi. Illumi’s hair was shorter and his head was cocked to lean lightly on Killua’s. He had never seen this photo; he didn’t remember that day at all. Hisoka made a small noise of knowing as though he were trying to get him to ask if he knew anything about it. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Yeah?” Killua drawled, cocky irritation on the surface of his voice. “Well _we’re_ his family. You can’t have seen more than what we’ve seen.”

Hadn’t he just concluded that it was an impossibility that he and Hisoka _hadn’t_ slept together? Why was he now adamantly denying the possibility to himself? Now he kept thinking back to Illumi’s and his interactions in the past, and couldn’t make himself stomach the thought of red hair littering Illumi’s bed. Killua couldn’t exactly recall any good memories between he and Illumi, but—

Illumi had been getting him off for years, for god’s sake. There was no way Hisoka had gotten more from him, or had seen that look Illumi gave Killua as he descended between his legs. He felt his face flush under his unspoken own line of defense and he quickly stuffed the photo back in the drawer.

Hisoka stopped applying the eyeliner and smirked, having noticed Killua’s sudden switch to speaking for the family. As though it was an admittance that Killua’s experience alone wouldn’t stand a chance against Hisoka’s. “I don’t think ‘we’ has ever seen him so vulnerable. Naked and compromised in the throes of pleasure. Doe-eyes alight with sensations from his dick~ ♥”

“Liar.”

“ _Mmm_. That was quick. Almost like you aren’t trying to convince _me_.” He fucked up on his left eye and pulled out a tissue to dab at the flaws. “It looked to me like Illumi keeps his pants firmly in place while bonding with even his most precious family member. ♣”

That had never before been a fact as bizarre as what Hisoka made it sound. Maybe it was a bit dense on his part that it had never struck him as abnormal before, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t _want_ his brother’s pants to come off. It didn’t matter because even if Hisoka _had_ seen Illumi naked—not that he believed for a minute that Hisoka had—it didn’t mean he had done anything with him. Or that those things meant Illumi would go for Hisoka over Killua—or rather, the family.

“I know a lot more than what you give me credit for. Hold on tight to that coupon.” Killua opened his mouth to argue, but Hisoka shushed him as he capped the eyeliner and began on his face paint. “Excuse me, I can’t keep tempting perfection. ♦”

Killua waited impatiently with only Hisoka’s happy humming to listen to. Hisoka was bluffing. There was no doubt in his mind. He turned away from Hisoka and faced forward—a pair of Hisoka’s underwear sat naturally on the coffee table like he was trying to show off just how close they were. They were small and black and looked silky.

He hoped there was no doubt in his mind.

Hisoka stood, bearing a star and tear on his face as he carefully lifted his tank top over his head. He shook his hair loose from the headband and walked over to the large shared closet. Leafing through articles that Killua couldn’t tell if they were purely Hisoka’s or not, he called out, “Alright, so what have you figured out for yourself concerning the client?”

Killua was even less in the mood to play this game than he had been before breakfast. But Hisoka was always in the mood for games and had the energy for the slow keelhaul it took to get people to play games with him. This wasn’t exactly an issue that they had days to buck each other over. “He’s obviously got some kind of ability that keeps him from being traced or Milluki would have found him by now. A fake name doesn’t mean anything when Milluki can get security footage. He’s no doubt tried to match people from the hotel and wherever Illumi met him for the job.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Milluki knows what he’s doing. If there was no match in the footages, but they still think that he could be in this hotel, then it’s got to be due to his power.”

Hisoka slipped down his shorts without warning and Killua whipped his head away so quickly he gave himself whiplash. Not that he hadn’t seen Hisoka’s bare ass before—but it was worse when they were alone in a hotel room. Before he could begin to complain, Hisoka’s eyes were on the back of his head, lingering. “Hand me those panties, will you? ♥”

Killua frowned, realizing he was staring in the direction of the underwear on the coffee table again. “I will _not_ touch your underwear.”

“They aren’t mine. They belong to your brother.”

If they actually belonged to Illumi at least he knew they were clean. Was Illumi really shameless enough to leave his underwear lying out? Hisoka stood there, naked, obviously unwilling to move until Killua did what he asked of him. He pinched the corner of the silky fabric with two fingers, as if touching a worm, and tossed them behind him—not caring if Hisoka could catch them or not. He felt lace on his fingers and tried not to think about whether or not they actually belonged to Illumi.

“Thank you~” Hisoka sing-songed, stepping into them and letting out a small moan as he ran his fingers over the material. “ _Ahh_ , he probably paid a small fortune for these~ ♥”

It was all a show, Killua told himself. A narrative he was performing to make Killua think about them sharing clothes and fucking. To make him think about what Illumi wore under his clothes and did in his free time. That there was a sexual side to his brother outside of the things he and Killua had always done.

There was no truth to it. None at all. Killua’s cheeks flared up. The word ‘panties’ repeated in his mind, and he flopped down on the sofa with no more desire to snoop through their things.

“I knew you could do it. Go on, please. The suspense is killing me. ♣”

He struggled to collect his thoughts back in the order they needed to be in for this conversation. “Um, he’s probably a manipulator or a specialist,”

“Yes, yes, his power is so interesting. He can disguise his physical form,” There was a dangerous impatience, “but you can’t piece everything together just by knowing his power. You’ve not taken a stab at the motive yet.”

“Does it matter? We only need to know his power to take him down.”

He felt something unmasked and flagrantly heavy in his hair, and the air started seeping murderous intent. He felt himself being lifted from the seat of the sofa by the back of his head. His neck ached with the weight of his body, but by the time he activated his gyo (the bungee gum having been on the back of his head made it a pointless instinct) he was draped over the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling and an unflattering angle of Hisoka’s face.

“I take back my praise. It was hasty. ♠” His voice was oozing with the intent to keep punishing Killua for any answer he didn’t like. Killua trailed his eyes down the bare torso above him and for a moment wasn’t sure if he had removed the underwear. “Marvel at an opponent’s ability all you want, but you don’t stand a chance the moment you think motives don’t matter. Being away from home has really done you a disservice.” He sighed, one hand on his bare hip. Trying to calm down—or at least the semblance of trying to calm himself. “This isn’t an assigned kill. We are at a disadvantage in case you haven’t noticed.”

“ _Tch_ , I know that! _You’re_ the one playing games and won’t just tell me.” From this vulnerable angle it was hard to be indignant without feeling ridiculous. “Stop lecturing already.”

“Your brother is being stalked.”

A beat of silence descended heavily on the room.

“ _What?_ ” Killua’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to steady himself on the sofa back. “Very funny. My brother doesn’t _get_ stalked. He does the stalking.”

A sharp nail ran down the bridge of his nose and stopped at the tip, Killua’s eyes crossing to see if he was sticking more bungee gum. Hisoka tapped the nose condescendingly. “Confident as always in your dear big brother, I see. It’d be sweet if it weren’t foolish. There’s a difference between talented and infallible, you know. ♦”

“And you just want drama. He wouldn’t allow himself to be stalked.”

The nails pinched his nose and Killua remembered Illumi’s red nose from yesterday. “Then I suppose it’s only coincidence that the first assassination request was specifically made of Illumi. And that despite this man seeing the entire Zoldyck family he still approached Illumi alone to make the same request.”

‘Stalking’ conjured the image of Palm in Killua’s mind. It was the sort of obsessive, desperate, and highly erratic thoughts directed towards someone attractive and a bit vulnerable. Her every word dripping praises and a need to be close to Knov. A scenario in which anyone would feel like that towards Illumi was just a facet of this same narrative of Hisoka’s. It wasn’t real. Illumi might be a bit feminine, but he was guarded, cold, and didn’t have the allure to attract someone’s fixation. “That’s not stalking.”

Once his nose was released, Killua reached up and rubbed the indents in his skin. Hisoka grabbed his wrist and tightened his grip until Killua met his smiling eyes. “No, but he’s got quite a collection of photos now. From the skee-ball tournament, from his assassination—probably from six years ago too, here on Zanzan Island. Those are just the ones that I’m fairly certain on. He’s been a big fan for a while.”

Someone like Palm had photos of his brother lying around their hotel room, possibly touching himself and tracing his eyes over the two-dimensional Zoldyck features. Licking his lips. Longing to touch him in person.

It was wrong. It made Illumi seem vulnerable, and it was a new sensation that twisted Killua’s stomach up. “Why would he—why Illumi? He would notice if some creep has been following him around for even just this trip. Even if this guy can change his physical form, Illumi’s always on guard for threats against the family.”

“The stalker most likely has a very specific condition set on his ability. He’s not a fighter. My guess is that he can only use it to transform his own physical form—which makes it seamless and exact, including vocal changes, height, weight, etcetera, no needles or anything similar needed to maintain his form for long periods of time. Illumi missed it because he shares that exact thought process: ‘ _why would anyone be stalking me?’_ So a few people staring at him a little too long here and there don’t catch his attention. After all, they aren’t after the family.”

Hisoka leaned forward, sweat pricking against where Killua’s back was touching the sofa in response to the sudden proximity. The upside-down clown smiled, and Killua could smell raspberry on his breath. “Your brother is a bit naïve in these areas. It’s part of his charm. ♥”

“He—” Killua couldn’t deny it. If the way Hisoka was able to hang on Illumi was any indication of how much he was disconnected from the idea of himself as a viable target of affection, then he was stubbornly dense. He let Hisoka get away with a lot—not only because it was Hisoka—but he didn’t take it seriously because he was certain it wasn’t real. Stalkers, flirting, and outer-familial affection didn’t seem to register with him. Naïve wasn’t a word he had ever used in relation to his brother—but it was true. “How do _you_ know all of this?”

“I don’t write it off when strangers are giving him looks, because he’s hotter than what you and he give him credit for. There may be faces of ‘different’ people,” he made superfluous air quotes with his fingers, and seemed to not care that Killua was pointedly looking away. Killua felt the fingers lodge themselves in his hair instead as though that had been his intention all along, “but it’s the same expression of longing. The same look of arousal whenever he sees him flip his hair.” His grip tightened on the thick mess, “If it weren’t so far outside of Illumi’s forte, he would have recognized it too. What can I say? I’m a jealous man. ♠”

Killua splayed his hand out in front of Hisoka’s line of sight so he would stop staring. He couldn’t tell if the bungee gum was still keeping him down or just Hisoka’s fist in his hair. When he didn’t respond, Hisoka released him. The warmth of the beaming face left, and Killua watched him right himself. He wanted to ask why, if Hisoka was so close with his brother, did he hit on Gon? Why was he hitting on him? Hisoka and the stalker were both disgusting as far as Killua was concerned.

Pointedly ignoring the words ‘hot’ ‘longing’ and ‘arousal’ he turned his head and stared out at their balcony to avoid Hisoka’s persistent stare. Those words only existed in the context of Hisoka speaking. The fact that Illumi’s name was dropped so closely to them was merely a coincidence.

It didn’t matter that this was a stalker case. The stalker was going to die regardless of his feelings for Illumi. He’d be fucking cold in the ground in the most undignified way possible.             

The earth closing in on whoever this filth was made the tension in Killua’s shoulders dissipate. He was just beginning to feel comfortable draped over the back of the sofa. At least Hisoka wasn’t touching him anymore. He decided to stuff any comments brewing about who was and wasn’t attracted to Illumi. “You’ve known since the beginning, haven’t you? And you didn’t warn anyone or prevent it.”

Killua didn’t have the energy to sound surprised.

“Don’t sound so bitter. He wasn’t in any real danger—well, not accounting for his own actions getting him into trouble of course. I wanted to see how it played out, baby’s first stalker and all. ♠” Hisoka finally walked away, now more uninterested in Killua than in resuming his morning routine. “It’s considerably less amusing when Illumi’s too dense to notice. I had expected him to notice at some point without the family holding his hand. It’d be a little hard for _me_ not to notice a stranger’s eyes on _my_ ass.”

Of course that deadpan brother of his wouldn’t notice someone undressing him with their eyes. Some fucking sleaze with wandering eyes was suddenly worse than Hisoka in Killua’s mind. The man in front of him, worming himself into a pair of harem pants, had at least been watching out for Illumi. This stalker wouldn’t get a quick death when Killua found him.

Ugh. And here he had convinced himself he wouldn’t let this angry burning in his gut get the best of him. This guy was going to die. It would be taken care of. There was no reason to feel like this.

“If this guy’s so good at changing his appearance, it doesn’t matter if you’ve seen him or not. If nothing checks out with his fake name he gave the hotel in relation to the alias he gave when making the original request, we won’t be able to locate this guy before he bolts.”

“Up or down?” Hisoka leaned over the vanity and played with his hair in the mirror.

“You’ve got a plan, don’t you?”

Hisoka dipped into a container of product and began to streak it through his hair. “ _Mmm_ , but you’re not going to like it. ♠”


	11. Fair's Fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter that switches to a more focused Hisoka POV (this will last for a few chapters (because it's important to get that non-Zoldyck perspective in there)) and also the most Hisoillu chapter to date! More inner-workings of the Zoldyck family hierarchy and their dynamics are revealed at the pace of a trickle.

 

_"_ Run along," Hisoka said to Killua, "meet me tonight to catch our number one Illumi fan."

Hisoka watched Killua as he ducked into Kalluto and Alluka’s room and out of sight. What a shame that Gon was actively hiding from him; it hadn’t been his fault, after all, that Gon was drunk when he decided to fulfill the obligations of his lending system.

It was meant to be a slow burn, where Gon had to dwell day after day on when to show Hisoka his ass. He was meant to over-focus on it and get flustered despite it being such a simple payment. Hisoka had anticipated it taking Gon weeks—maybe months, to get the guts to fulfill it. It had not been in the cards for Gon’s alcohol-addled brain to decide that inebriated was the best state to be in to expose himself.

Really, it was so much more than Hisoka had hoped for. He had been dealt a royal flush by that flushed little apple prince. The next best thing had been Killua’s resolve crumbling before him. Of course Killua’s respect for his best-friend-crush would win out in the end; but Hisoka could say he did everything in his power to give Killua this birthday gift neatly wrapped and properly hammered.

He’d slip in later to take the rest of the alcohol back to his and Illumi’s room so they could enjoy it; or maybe he would leave it in their room to see how Kikyo and Silva would react.

He’d leave that decision up to his future, capricious self. He never did disappoint.

Another door opened—the one shared by Zeno and Milluki—and out came Illumi. He looked positively strung out with black strands of hair straying from their uniform flow here and there. Hisoka held the door open for him and ushered him inside. “You look lovely, my dear Illumi. ♥” Illumi didn’t say anything; just shoved past him and into the room. No one was in the mood to play today.

Then again, no one else had gotten to see the face of god last night like Hisoka had. He really couldn’t hold it against them for not being able to match his energy.

Illumi plopped down at the vanity much more roughly than normal and tucked his hair behind his ear. After picking out some dyed red hair from the bristles, he gave his hair a quick brushing out. He looked up at the mirror and then pushed bottles around until he fished out his blue headband. Eyeing it quietly for a few moments he eventually ran it through his hair and put it on. Caressing it absentmindedly, he looked up at Hisoka with a tired, frustrated scowl. “I told you not to touch my headband.”

Hisoka moved away from his field of vision and put his hands on Illumi’s shoulders—running a finger along the length of them as if to admire how broad they were. “I’m also wearing your panties. ♥”

“I told you not to touch my headband.” He repeated, more of an exasperated sigh this time as he put his head in the palm of his hand.

“Yes, yes, ‘ _Killu gave it to you_ ’ I know. I’m sure if you keep lecturing me it will eventually sink in!” He dug his thumbs into the tense shoulder blades and pressed his crotch against Illumi’s back, lowering his voice, “I’m sure if you were a little more forceful with the lesson this time I might actually respect it. ♠”

Illumi stood suddenly and Hisoka’s hands fell without resistance. “We found out the client is a shape-shifter. We don’t know if he’s still in the hotel or even still on the island. Milluki is checking every bit of footage for anything out of the ordinary.”

“Good thing they don’t record in the rooms, huh?”

“This is serious.”

“So am I. I wonder if they record out on the balconies.”

Illumi turned towards him then, squinting, and said, “Killu’s breath smelled like alcohol.”

“Guilty~ ♥” Illumi grabbed his temples and Hisoka shimmied over to their kitchen and opened the freezer, “I saved some for us though, don’t worry.”

It’s not like it mattered if Killua drank. He couldn’t drink enough to get impaired. Both of them knew that. Being the heir, his training in resistance to poison was much more thorough than any other son. Illumi could at least get tipsy. Things were not always equal in the Zoldyck house. In fact, they hardly ever were.

For a moment the intent to ask what the point was of giving Killua alcohol flashed in Illumi’s eyes. But Hisoka put some rum on ice and practically forced it into Illumi’s hand and the questions died as quickly as they had formed. Maybe Illumi knew he didn’t want to know the real reason. “It’s your favorite, and you look like you could use it.”

Illumi sipped it, ice clinking against the glass, and Hisoka smiled. “He didn’t need to be drunk to dry hump big brother anyway. ♣” A pink tongue darted out and licked his lips before intentionally leaving it hanging out of his mouth. He didn’t get the glance or reaction he was hoping for—which was anything at all, really. Illumi’s lips hovered around the glass as he swallowed.

The glass was empty in the second consecutive gulp. “You seem awfully unconcerned about this shape-shifter situation.” He stopped, suddenly remembering something, “Or does it not affect you enough for you to care?”

How cute. After all of this time, he was still genuinely trying to figure out Hisoka’s priorities and motives. Anyone else that had spent an extended period of time with Hisoka would have let it go by now and let him do whatever he was going to do without question. Illumi was nothing if not determined.

From behind his back he pulled the bottle Illumi had last seen on the counter. He tipped it graciously onto the still unmelted ice. “Maybe I would rather talk about your victories than your screw-ups. Berating you is much less my hobby than it is yours.”

The rum was gone again in an instant. Rarely had Hisoka seen Illumi so intent on drinking. Hisoka filled it again, dutifully. Far be it from him to stop his dear friend from drinking his problems away. “What did Killu say about being confined to the hotel for the day?”

Hisoka’s eyes narrowed. “He took it well. He’s going to enjoy the hot springs with Gon.”

The glass in Illumi’s hand splintered loudly, unintentionally, and the liquid started leaking down the side. It dripped down his fingers before he realized he was losing rum and tilted the rest of the liquid down his throat with a single gulp. There could have been glass particles in it, but oh well.

“Did I say something inappropriate? Come now, it’s not all that bad. ♦”

And there it was. The reaction he wanted. Illumi looked at him and his poker face was as splintered as the glass.

But only for a moment, as Illumi walked swiftly into the kitchen to dispose of the ruined glassware. He stood at the sink and licked the remaining rum from his fingers—like an animal licking its wounds—even though he could have just as easily washed them. Hisoka closed the gap between them and reached above Illumi’s head to get a fresh glass. No use letting this desperate drinking mood go to waste over a little party foul.

He would have probably stopped drinking had Hisoka not been there. Thank god for Hisoka. What would Illumi ever do without him?

The only remaining evidence that he had lost his cool was a heavy dimple beneath Illumi’s what-would-be-frown as he spoke. “Even after the brat almost ruined Killu’s hands—even after he nearly got him killed in some godforsaken third world country—with no regard for his wellbeing, Killu still forgives him.”

_What joy_! This rant again. Maybe Hisoka should have been a bit less honest with Illumi in the past about that dodge ball game. Flubbed the truth a bit more. Smoothed over the parts where his apple started to stray from everything Killua had thought he was and became a destructive slave to his emotions. But it was so exciting that Hisoka couldn’t quite keep it to himself when giving Illumi his Killua updates. The payment was great, sure, but he wasn’t sure it was worth hearing this anguished train of thought over and over again.

He made sure to get another drink into Illumi’s hands to shut him up. He kept his hand on Illumi’s, trailing his nails on the back and closing the gap between them with a step and leaning in to whisper, “You can tell your bartender all of your troubles. ♦”

Illumi gracefully sat on the island countertop behind him with a small hop and crossed his legs as if to make Hisoka keep his distance. He sipped the rum and was silent for a few sweet minutes. Hisoka had placed Bungee Gum on the freezer door, whipped it open, and yanked over a bottle of tequila in a flashy gesture despite only being a few feet from the fridge. Illumi barely looked up. Hisoka poured himself some tequila to fill the silence.

“ _’Killua doesn’t have to qualify to be my friend_ ’ he said. He doesn’t qualify to be Killu’s friend. Even if we were allowed to have friends, Killu could do much better than someone who has done so much to hurt him.” It was no use. The rum was gone already.

The hypocrisy was a bit rich, Hisoka thought. But that was simply Illumi. “But you and I are so close. ♥” It was amazing how much a sole implication of he and Illumi being an unspecified _close_ made every Zoldyck nervous. Intimacy really seemed to rock the emotionally distant cradle in this family.

“We are _not_ friends. We are accomplices. You are useful as a business partner and in the future may serve as a convenient contact in finding a bride for myself or one of my brothers.” Hisoka snorted in laughter at the word ‘bride’ but Illumi continued with more conviction in his voice to spite the ugly laughter. “ _Zoldycks aren’t allowed to have friends_. Father is very firm about it. At best, friends only compromise the sanctity of the family. At worst they end in complete betrayal and bring incalculable harm. It is for the best to avoid any risks that have the potential for such damage. Including friends.”

Hisoka balanced the glass of tequila between a large bicep and the side of his chest and gave a small round of mocking applause. “Oh how very rehearsed that was. Never question the authority of your judge, jury, and executioner, right?” It deserved another drink, in fact. How else did one deal with the crushing weight of being a living tool for your family?

“There are no exceptions. Father has recently proposed that I cease bringing you so that we would not form a friendship. Guests should not be permanent enough to form a relationship or attachment without consent.”

“Oh dear. I’ve caused quite the uproar. He would be livid if he found out we’re fucking. ♣”

Illumi coughed on his rum at that. Wiping imagined liquid away from his lips, he looked away. “Of course not. Sexual relations are not a problem if there is no perceived friendship or unauthorized courtship. Our _past_ actions would have no bearing on the family rules.”

He was always like this. The moment they were finished getting their frustrations out he would wrap himself back up in his clothes and pretend it was the last time they would fool around. It was less pretending than it was convincing himself wholeheartedly that Hisoka would never find his way between those long legs again. It was adorable, really. Denial was Illumi’s strong suit.

“This may be my last year on this vacation to prevent you from getting some companionship, but Killua was allowed to leave with his friends and stay gone. Seems unfair.” Hisoka didn’t sound affronted in the slightest. Merely making a point.

Illumi’s lips pursed and he couldn’t hide a sour expression. “I do not know why he let Killu go when those three intruders came to get him under the guise of friendship. I was on a job, and could not help him make sense of Father’s confusing actions. It was no wonder Killu got the wrong idea and thought that he was permitted to make friends. Father should have been clearer on his intentions or directed someone else to be clear in his stead.”

It wasn’t the first time Hisoka seemed to know more than Illumi did about Killua’s special circumstances. Illumi saw things in such black and white terms that he could hardly fathom Killua living under the unequal rules and expectations that divided him from the world of his brothers. There was no envy in Illumi’s voice. It didn’t matter at all that the short straw seemed to be ever in his grasp. “Maybe he changed his mind on his friend policy?”

“Of course not. After I had finished closing the final arrangements on Kalluto’s admission into the Spiders I made Father uneasy through continued contact with Chrollo. Chrollo is the leader of the—”

Hisoka’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “ _Oh I know_. I know that little spider intimately. ♥”

Illumi blinked as if he had forgotten that it had been Hisoka’s place that Kalluto had taken. “Right. Well I dropped contact with him. It is entirely unacceptable for an assassin to hold such relationships. Killu just needs reminded of this. It’s always been my job to relay and enforce Father’s rules. He doesn’t feel it is wise for himself to personally give Killu limitations or discipline. He should have waited until I arrived home if he wanted to release Killu so that I could explain the terms of his freedom.”

“He’d rather him hate _you_.”

“It’s not unreasonable.” Even as he said that, Illumi’s expression started to shake loose at the word ‘hate’. Hisoka regretted not using more discretion. One too many hits were on the table. If Hisoka pushed him too far, Illumi would bust. He was reeling in on himself and his voice took on a harder monotone than it had held before. “It would not do for the heir to harbor negative feelings towards the man he will succeed. We’ve all got to keep him from resenting our father and the family as a whole. That is why Father allowed him to leave. He knows what he is doing, but Killu will not give up his friends and will not listen to me when I try and pass down the rule.”

Hisoka wasn’t so sure that rule had ever been for anyone but Illumi. The man before him was wrapping himself in recollections of family guidelines like a safety blanket and ignoring the evidence in front of him like he did after they had sex.

“I’m failing him in that regard.”

Self-depreciating Illumi was nothing new, but he seemed too open for his own good. Hisoka had a great time last night on his own and promptly knocked off around 5am. Illumi still hadn’t been back in the room. And now he was drinking and oversharing. Either his fuckup had really done a number on his usual standoffish demeanor or it was a hell of a cocktail of circumstances that led to this substandard Illumi specimen. Hisoka could probably take him out with little effort. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

A breech in poker face again. A nearly unreadable look of contentment thrown into his glass for no one to appreciate. “No. Killu fell asleep on me.” His expression quickly reverted and his glass was empty again. The topic was at hand now. He was drinking fast but those delayed effects were taking their sweet time. “By the time the sun came up and I put him to bed Mother and Father were looking for me.” The thought made him subconsciously run a hand through his hair. Remembering Killua flinching away from his touch and storming out.

He frowned and finally sat the empty glass down on the counter next to him. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a sigh.

“Getting ass-play last night isn’t cheering you up nearly as much as I thought it would. ♣”

Illumi’s eyes snapped open and his cheeks colored a bit as he shot Hisoka a deadly look. It was probably the four glasses of rum hitting his system all at once. He knew Illumi hated him speaking so bluntly in situations where Killua was involved. “Letting you watch yesterday morning was a mistake.”

“You got to see everything so well it might as well have been your birthday. And I have a feeling tough little Killu isn’t normally that loud and desperate.” Illumi avoided his gaze but Hisoka moved to meet his eyes again, “what a good big brother you are,” When he wouldn’t keep turning his head away to avoid his eyes Hisoka dropped his voice, “he came so quickly. ♥”

Illumi shifted uncomfortably and knocked the glass onto the counter—it clattered but clearly didn’t break. “ _Fuck_ ” he couldn’t stand to be made to look clumsy. The water from the ice cubes soaked into this pant leg.

Before he could shove Hisoka away, recompose himself, or even pick up the felled glass Hisoka had found his eyes again. “Must have been sweet agony for him to sleep on you right after. Dutiful older brother never gets to unbutton his pants. I’m sure you haven’t had a moment to yourself to properly replay that scene.” Manicured nails found themselves settling into Illumi’s jeaned thigh, “It’s not healthy to keep all of that bottled up. You know, I could—”

In his pocket Illumi’s phone vibrated. He uncrossed his leg as he pulled the cell out and nudged Hisoka away firmly with a kick. A text from Silva. His face went somber again. Destroying Hisoka’s hard work. “Father wants me to report on my progress.” He faltered, holding his phone tight in his hands as he let the water continue to sink into his jeans. “I don’t have anything. Milluki hasn’t texted me.”

Hisoka sighed and slid the ice across the counter and into the sink and set the glass upright, tracing a finger in the trails of water along the side. “Just tell them you will have the fucker caught by midnight.”

Illumi’s eyebrows furrowed and there was a sudden, acute, murderous air in the room. “This is not a joke, Hisoka.”

“Just trust me.”

“No.”

“I’ve heard that kind of staggering distrust once already today. It’s hurtful.” Illumi’s vicious look didn’t falter. “Then tell them whatever you want. I will catch him by myself. ♦” Hisoka waved his hand dismissively.

“If you have information regarding the client you need to tell me this instant. Or,” Illumi faltered, thoughts moving rapidly along with fluctuations in his confused and excited aura, “if you for some reason cannot tell me you need to tell Father. Or Milluki. Someone in the family so we can act accordingly.”

“Hmph. Fucking your brother is one thing, but this stubborn nepotism is going a bit far, don’t you think?”

Illumi’s hand was around his throat in an instant, using his height from the countertop to bear down on the grinning idiot with force. “I won’t have you put my family at risk because you want to play games.” He must have been really tired if he wasn’t threatening Hisoka with his needles. Or he was staying unarmed to avoid getting in anymore trouble with his parents. But his hand was more than enough to crush Hisoka’s windpipe. “You know something. Tell me. Now.”

A coughed laughter escaped Hisoka’s lips as he grabbed Illumi’s waist and pulled him off the counter in one swift motion. Hisoka landed on his back on the hardwood floor and Illumi’s full body weight landed haphazardly on Hisoka’s chest—Illumi’s hands tight around Hisoka’s neck not as a threat but as a source of balance from unexpectedly losing his vantage point.

Having the wind knocked out of him only seemed to spur Hisoka on further; taking advantage of the confusion, he flipped their positions. Illumi was trapped beneath him with his legs around his chest. His hands around Hisoka’s muscular neck seemed to be doing little good. Hisoka was breathing heavily, but there were a lot of potential reasons for that.

Hisoka’s hand slid up under the fabric of his top and felt the tensed muscles of his abdomen. “And what will you give me for such valuable information? ♥”

In a split second Illumi had pulled a needle from behind his pale ear and had it pressed to Hisoka’s temple. Ah, so he _was_ actually armed. “There’s no need for the claws to come out, is there? We’re negotiating like adults.” Hisoka crooned, hand continuing its brave roam across the smooth, ticklish (empirically tested) flesh.

Illumi’s skin started to crawl. He pressed the needle into Hisoka’s temple and blood trickled down the make-up’d jawbone.  His other hand shifted slightly, found Hisoka’s Adam’s apple, and applied pressure with his thumb.  Hisoka tsk’d lightly before raking flesh off the stomach under him with his manicured nails. “If you’d rather the claws come out, I am certainly game. ♠”

There was definitely blood rising above Illumi’s skin. The needle clattered to the floor and he shoved Hisoka back enough to get a foot between them and kick Hisoka the rest of the way off him. Hisoka caught himself on his feet and Illumi was quickly after him, cornering him up against the counter he had previously been sitting on. Hisoka made a show out of dropping the playing card he had instinctually drawn in defense. It fluttered to the floor next to the needle, and Hisoka used both of his free hands to grab Illumi’s knee, rutting his erection into it pointedly.  “So you _are_ in the mood after all ♣” Hisoka moaned, still breathless.

Hisoka’s hips moved again and Illumi retreated, resetting their much needed default personal space. He wasn’t getting anywhere by getting violent. Typically it only made things much worse where Hisoka was concerned—he would have loved for it to turn into a bloodbath. The fact that Illumi had responded so aggressively without thinking about who he was threatening showed how this situation had shaken his disposition.

One couldn’t exactly blame him: he had gone from a nasty fight with his precious estranged younger brother to a rare and treasured moment of reconciliation with that same little sunshine to having to deal with the full force of his parents’ disappointment over the worst mistake he had made in years. Not exactly a good day for the eldest Zoldyck son to remember default force only fueled Hisoka’s fire.

Illumi pulled up his rapidly staining shirt to look at the damage Hisoka had done to his stomach. He frowned and sighed in a frustrated huff at the blood as Hisoka eyed his handiwork fondly.

“We’re not going to fuck?” Hisoka croaked, rubbing his throat and smiling at Illumi’s returned look of disgust.

Fishing his, thankfully undamaged, phone from his pocket he punched in the password and the texting screen lit up his face. Trust, was it? Or just an unwillingness to fight? His fingers hovered over the screen as he met Hisoka’s eager eyes, “You had better be absolutely certain about this.”

“I’m the only one that knows what he looks like. I can identify him despite his power.”

“How?” His phone buzzed in his hand once more.

“Papa Zoldyck certainly is impatient. ♠” Expectedly refusing to provide an explanation.

“What about this plan of yours. You’d better not cause a bunch of chaos.”

“I’ve already consulted with the illustrious, _flawless_ little heir.” He struck a small half-hearted pose and threw his head back, “An A-Okay plan approved by an official Zoldyck family member. ♦”

Illumi turned back to his phone and started texting a reply, but his eyes trailed back up, suspicion ripe in them.

What a delayed reaction.

Before he could say anything, Hisoka beat him to it. “Surely you trust Killua? He’s fourteen after all. Plenty old enough to handle himself.” He chuckled and tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, “Well, except for last night.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“ _There it is!_ That’s how we move this along. Boy, you _are_ out of sorts today.”

“What do you want?”

“I want an hour with the man after we catch him. I want to see his power up-close.”

Illumi waited for an expansion, blinking under heavy eyelids.

“Of course, I mean alone.” He continued.

“And how exactly do I explain that to my father?”

“Not my problem. I’ll catch him myself, give him to you gift-wrapped—almost entirely unharmed—and that’s where my charity stops. Surely you can defy your parents once more so you can skip this tiring martyrdom thing and get the loose ends tied up on this ugly mess.”

“I’ve got a feeling I know what you want from him, but is that really all you’re getting from this?”

“You insult me if you think my plan isn’t going to be an absolute delight in and of itself.”

Illumi hit ‘send’ on his phone. “Fine. You will keep me updated throughout the entire process.”

“Couldn’t do it without you.”

He looked like he wanted to backtrack, glancing at his phone as if he could unsend the text message. A look of resignation eventually crossed his face, however, and he pocketed his phone. “You want me to actively engage in a plan, completely blind. A plan that you concocted to entertain yourself.”

“Think of it as atonement. You’d feel dirty if you got out of this scot-free, I know you.”

Illumi yawned, hiding it beneath a shapely pale hand. “What do I have to do?”

The freezer door was whipped open in response. Illumi watched passively as another drink was made and put into his hands. The wet glass was cold and he was shoved lightly out of the kitchen. “Take this to bed and get some beauty rest.”

Illumi looked towards the bed and grabbed the bridge of his nose. “You want me to nap, now of all times?” There wasn’t a good place around the hotel for him to bury himself.

He had a hard time napping while in times of stress unless he could shut out all stimulation. There was little else that could shut out everything around him and create a sense of detachment from the world like sleeping underground. If worry was eating him away he would sleep underground to get sleep at night if need be.

“Unless you want me to help you unwind more. ♥”

 

Illumi said nothing and dropped his pants, back still facing Hisoka. The entire right butt-pocket of his pants was soaked and his wound hadn’t given up on soaking his clothing through. Hisoka watched from the kitchen as Illumi set the glass down beside the bed, pulled on a pair of shorts, bandaged his four nail marks, and sat on the edge of the bed.

He hadn’t slept in two days. First there had been the unexpected presence of Gon, which bothered him much more than what he cared to admit. He had lain in bed for hours until he was certain Hisoka’s breathing was deeper than usual. Then he’d read a book the rest of the night. He wasn’t sure if Hisoka had known, but it was now more probable than not, since he was going through so much effort to compel him to sleep for a few hours.

The notion that he was supposed to sleep, despite that he was to have this client identified and caught by means of some unknown plan before midnight, was ridiculous.

Smothering his head under a pillow was nothing like the embrace of dirt. Even at the room’s darkest there were still sources of light. There was always some small noise somewhere that his sensitive hearing picked up. He was in work-mode until this client was caught. How could he sleep? He hated trying to sleep fruitlessly. He’d much rather go without sleep.

He’d been much longer without sleeping before.

When Killua left home he hadn’t been able to sleep for a solid week. He kept thinking he would pass out eventually—he was snippy with clients, fucked up kills, and murdered a butler in frustration. His parents had punished him by refusing to assign him jobs until he could sleep or get his act together, whichever came first. They were disappointed with him, frustrated with Killua, and it all seemed to pin on him. A specimen nailed to a corkboard with nothing to direct his attention and energy towards, the restlessness and anxiety built up slowly to boiling point. But he was unable to move or act.

It was pure, nauseating worry. Anger. Betrayal. Killua had left him—left all of them. His parents wouldn’t let him forcibly drag Killua home. They had said, just leave him be for a while. He’ll come back on his own. But Illumi was sick, sleepless, and, for a lack of a better term, emotional. His hands shook as he could do nothing but check his cell phone.

After a week of misery had taken himself to a remote part of the mountain and buried himself. It was a technique he had thought up and perfected for scenarios in which his job required him to stay hidden but the location was at want for places to hide. He had never stayed underground for an extended period of time before, but he was highly trained at breathing with little oxygen. He needed to escape his own thought processes and felt the low oxygen levels and cold dirt would cool his head.

The world had stopped around him and it was as though he had entered another plane of existence. His own body didn’t exist, his situation didn’t exist, his family didn’t exist—everything was just blackness. Simple blackness and the smell of earth.  He didn’t know how long he slept. It didn’t matter. He didn’t report in to his parents. He would wake up—in a strange state of lucidity—and enjoy the nothing around him until he fell back asleep.

By the time he had unburied himself, returned to reality, and checked his cell phone he was back to his old self. Killua had been still gone, nothing had changed, but he’d found something that could allow him to leave it all. He had slept in the ground every night until he had been able to see Killua again during the Hunter Exam. Seeing him alive and making him come home even for a little while did enough to allow Illumi to use his bed again. He didn’t understand it, but he was never exactly the master of his own emotions to begin with.

This, albeit tasty, rum did only a fraction of what burying himself did for him. But it would have to do. He sipped it to the sound of the large curtains mechanically coming in to block out the window wall. Gentle sounds of beeping proceeded the kicking on of the air conditioning unit. “Killua seemed very concerned for you today when I spoke with him about the present situation.”

Hisoka was supposed to be helping him sleep. Why was he talking?

 

“He’s chomping at the bit to fuck up this guy in your name.”

Illumi opened his mouth, but Hisoka shushed him immediately. He closed his eyes hesitantly and turned onto his side, hoping Hisoka had a point to all of this.

“He’s not mad anymore, you know. At his birthday party he asked me where you were. He was adorably worried and practically accused me of hiding your whereabouts from him. He perked up every time I handled my phone. His cool demeanor fell away completely when he opened your gift. He was so excited.”

These weren’t so much white lies as they were a bit of soft embellishment.

“He held your gift the longest. This morning he instantly came up to me and asked where you were. He still had blood on his nails and his hair was a wreck, but he was concerned for you.” Hisoka watched Illumi’s back and carefully noted in inhalations and exhalations as he ticked off every minute detail he could recall. “Even though he hates my plan, he’s willing to go along with it. There aren’t any ulterior motives he can claim.”

It was pathetic, really. Watching the rigid, lean form of a soldier melt into the bed while on the verge of sleep. Hisoka was staring at a completely different man in a split second. His breath hitched suddenly like his was falling—or trying to fight sleep, and then settled back again. “He’s growing up. I’m sure you can tell. He’ll figure out how to forgive you in no time.”

That one was a lie.

The ice shifted in the glass but there was no movement from Illumi. The audible breathing was deep now, muscles completely relaxed; sleep had taken him. Hisoka threw a look back at his sleeping face before leaving the room. There were no hard creases around his eyes, and his lips drooped at a natural incline instead of a forced straight line; it was the softest expression he had ever seen on Illumi’s face.

"Why people think I'm not a nice person," Hisoka said to himself, "I'll never understand."


	12. Only Option

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a little while since I've last updated, and this is a bit of a short update. Please check my tumblr for further details as to what's up, but fyi I don't plan on discontinuing or quitting the fic! It will just take me a lot longer to find time to update. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

“…the nephew of the illustrious Mayor Zanzan was found dead in his beachside manor early this morning. Police are refusing to comment at this time, but reports say the 911 call made by the cleaning staff indicate a clear homicide. The twenty-seven year old was beloved by all; friends and neighbors say he had no enemies, and was planning to take his girlfriend on a trip to Yorknew City this weekend. His girlfriend was not available for comment. A candlelight memorial for the young Zanzan will be held this evening at 19:00 hours in town square. The community and its guests are encouraged to come together in this time of loss….”

“Could you turn that off? I’m not fully awake yet.”

“You failed to tell me it was the mayor’s nephew that you assassinated.”

“Does it matter?” Illumi ran a swab of iodine over the gash of missing skin that had relocated to underneath Hisoka’s nails before perching at his vanity to brush his hair. Hisoka clicked off the television; Illumi sighed at the reminder of his impulsivity. He had known that sniveling brat was the high-profile target he was before he removed his heart, but he hadn’t even considered stopping. It was disgracefully bad judgment.

“If you’d tell me all of the details, we could collaborate and have a better shot at cleaning this up without making a bigger mess first.”

Illumi put down his brush roughly and it clacked against the wood of the vanity. The nap hadn’t done enough, in Hisoka’s opinion, to lighten his high-strung disposition when it came to this topic. A bad sign for a Zoldyck to portray. “You shouldn’t know any details I do not. Collaboration is not—”

“Oh but it is. It _is_ your only option ♥” Hisoka assured, coming up behind him to run few fingers through his detangled, soft hair. The Illumi in the mirror scowled back. “You’d might as well put that sour little face away and play a bit of quid pro quo with me. I’d hate for us to risk it all only for the carriage to turn back into a pumpkin at midnight.”

The deadline was heavy. Illumi could feel its weight. No skin off Hisoka’s back if he persisted in his refusal to cooperate. Messy and chaotic was Hisoka’s style. “First, tell me the plan.”

“Typically you would offer to go first. Common courtesy. But fine, I’ll go first. A precursor here: your client is stalking you. It’s necessary to know this if you would like to fret with the ‘whys’ in my plan.”

Hisoka paused to give Illumi a wide berth to comprehend what he had just said. Illumi blinked hard and his face cleared of any signs that he either understood or was confused. “Of course he did. He knew we would be here, of course he was stalking us. He followed me to give me the assignment. He was obviously stalking me, Hisoka.”

“No, dearest. You. Not your family. _You_. Stalking, as in the long term spying on and following of you well-preceding the letter he sent to your father requesting to hire you.”

Illumi made no movement. He waited patiently to have the revelation strike him. Or rather for it to be giftwrapped and handed to him.

Hisoka cleared his throat, choking back any condescending disposition he was defaulting into. “Your personal self being the object of interest as opposed to having to do with your family or your profession.”

“Why.”

Even having expected this, it was a bit much. Illumi was damn lucky Hisoka liked giving lessons to boys who really should know better by now. No use waiting for Illumi to connect the dots himself; at this rate it would take all night for him to reach the conclusion that the stalking was due to himself being sexually desirable. Let alone the fact that the stalking, in and of itself, was something that he should be morally opposed to. “He’s most likely obsessed with you as an individual and has imprinted an imaginary relationship onto you—causing him to seek you out and attempt to infiltrate your life by any means necessary.”

“Ah.” Illumi’s facial expression was underwhelming for someone who supposedly understood what was being told to him. “How did I fail to notice this while you were successful?”

_Honestly_. More concerned with his own inadequacy even in a situation like this.

“Not so fast.  It’s your turn.” Illumi nodded, pulled away from Hisoka’s fingertips, and scooped his discarded clothing off the floor to put in a hamper for the help to take. Illumi was hardly the type to sit idle. “Did the client give you a photograph of the target?”

“I turned it over to Father.”

“Describe what the target looked like.”

“Approximately six feet tall, slim build, black hair that’s down to—” he made a chopping motion next to his ear, “the length mine used to be and—ah! He looked like me. Sort of. I suppose. A darker complexion.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

“He had no nen. He wasn’t heavily guarded. It makes no sense. Why pay the price to hire a Zoldyck for a scorned love?”

“Again, not ‘a Zoldyck.’ You.” Hisoka watched as Illumi slid a clean white long-sleeved shirt on over his torso. Naturally, it clung fast to his body and made his waist look tiny, even without shape-wear. He wondered just how identical Illumi’s body type was to the dead nephew. “I would have loved to see you tear yourself apart ♠ I suppose it’s probably the same for your client, but for the destruction of his ex.”

Illumi glanced over, almost subconsciously, towards the mirror on the vanity as if he had forgotten what he looked like. “There are plenty of people who look like me. And the late Mr. Zanzan.”

Hisoka wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that Illumi was calling his appearance commonplace. But the rarity of Illumi’s looks didn’t hold any bearing on the mindset of the stalker, so for the time being that was neither here nor there. “Timing is key with these things. When were you last here with your family?”

“Killu was turning seven. So about seven years ago.”

“You may have been in the right place at the right time to catch his broken-hearted gaze ♣”

“You think he’s been stalking me for seven years?”

“Who knows? But something must have recently happened to make him act now.”

“He told me it had to be ‘before this weekend.’ Obviously I knew it would take me no more than an hour.”

“Your target intended to go to Yorknew with his girlfriend, if you can trust the news.”

“Perhaps they were eloping.”

“A viable reason to panic if you’re still not over the person after seven long years.” Illumi had started to take a pair of pants off the hanger before Hisoka interrupted him. “It’s my turn now. Don’t bother getting dressed up. You won’t be needing clothes for this plan ♥”

Black eyes squinted harshly, but he kept quiet for Hisoka’s explanation. He didn’t have room for negotiations or complaints.

“There’s a good boy. You understand: it’s the best way to lure him out ♦”

Hisoka stopped. He was waiting for him to bite. Illumi carefully hung the pants back up on the hanger and sighed before dolefully asking, “What is?”

“We take a trip to the hot springs and see if he can resist the urge to get you alone.”

Illumi had to admit the plan was as good as anything else, if the information Hisoka had given him about the nature of the client was correct. He was more than willing to strip to nothing to lure this pest out of his slimy hole. But things were never so simple. “And hope that he found me the first time with some type of tracking nen.”

“Otherwise you’re bearing your body for empty bleachers ♣”

“I have to have caught him by midnight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. Got a better idea?”

“I wouldn’t be talking to you if I did.” At the mention of a hot springs visit, Illumi sat himself in front of his vanity once more and began pinning his hair up in a high bun on his head. His nimble fingers weaving in and out of his dark pool of hair was distracting. This sit-stand-sit at his vanity was Illumi’s form of pacing, Hisoka was sure. It was dizzying. “It’s your turn,” Illumi pressed, “how did you figure out he was stalking me?”

“It’s charming that you’re finally getting the hang of these games.”

Illumi’s pink tongue poked from his lips slightly as he concentrated on his hair. ‘Charming’ wasn’t quite the word Hisoka was looking for, but close enough. “I pay attention.” Hisoka said simply, letting that snide sentiment hang in the air above them while imagining what kind of offended response Illumi’s prideful defense mechanisms were cooking up. “Faces, people, expressions. Weak people are of interest too at times, especially when they are eating you alive with their eyes. I could tell he had nen right away ♦”

Of course Illumi was trained to pay attention to not only strong opponents, but Illumi’s personality brought those lessons to the wayside when there were other things to hold his attention. Namely, Killua. “He must have been conservative in his advances.” A strand of hair fell from the uniform bun and Illumi had to fish for another bobby pin. It would take one more than he had calculated.

At that, Hisoka laughed. The strand of hair fell from the bobby pin again and Illumi wrinkled his nose at it—or more likely, at Hisoka’s laughter. “Conservative in his advances,” Hisoka repeated, unable to conceal his mocking tone, “that _would_ make you feel better ♠” Being the bearer of bad news wasn’t a bad title in his humble opinion. “But, absolutely not. He was at your doorstep, handing you a cake.”

“Cake?”

“Your turn.”

A poorly-hidden itch of curiosity and irritation squirmed behind his eyes; he roughly pinned the stubborn strand into the bun and turned to look up at Hisoka with a burn behind his words. “Fine. What do you want?”

He could have, and probably should have contested the nature of these ‘turns’ and when they should start and end. The reciprocation rate was ever in the transmuter favor, it seemed. Illumi was a sucker for them, after all.

“It’s about time to head to the hot springs, if you would like to see this thing actually go over.”

Illumi opened his mouth automatically to volley back more banter, but outside the large window the sun was setting. They had four hours to lure him out and apprehend him through low chaos means. The Zoldyck pride told him that he wouldn’t need four hours to apprehend a bottom tier beast like the man that had been stalking him, but his fear of failure told him that there was a lot they didn’t know, and this wasn’t an ideal design for catching the bastard by any means. Four hours may not be enough.

He hoped that trusting Hisoka was not a mistake he would live to regret.

 Opening their door, Illumi came chest-to-chest with Milluki, who seemed to have had his hand hovering in a fist in front of their door. He was dressed in a three-quarter sleeve raglan shirt and cargo shorts. Their parents allowed him to dress down on vacation, whereas he was expected to wear a button-down most weekdays at the manor—to make it appear as though, despite him never leaving the house, he was working. Doing something for the betterment of the family and not just being a shut-in.

Judging by his slightly shaking fist—he had been there awhile. Waiting to knock. “Millu?” At the tilt of his older brother’s head, Milluki’s thick cheeks tinted pink as if he were guilty of something. How long had he been there?

“I—erm, Grandpa sent me to see how you are doing—with all of this.” He motioned to Illumi’s general form, withdrawing his hand back to him quickly when he saw the bright red hair appear over Illumi’s shoulder. His eyebrows knit together, like a small fit was imminent, at the sight of Hisoka.

“We’re going to the hot springs, if you would like to come.” Hisoka chirped, putting a hand on Illumi’s shoulder and resting his chin there. The fit moved closer to imminence and his cheeks puffed out. It was no secret that Milluki distrusted Hisoka and very much questioned the nature of his relationship with his older brother. He’d say he didn’t care, but that was far from true every time Hisoka opened his mouth.

“Tch. Papa’s breathing down our necks and you’re going to the _hot springs_ , Illu, really?” His voice was much harsher than a moment ago, and he refused to look them in the face. The juxtaposition made his previous tone seem genuinely concerned. “I’ve been working on your mess since the body was reported. Mama and Papa woke me up too, you know.” His voice was slipping into a whine as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his round fingertips. “And you’re—going to the hot springs.”

Illumi couldn’t exactly blame him. This was his mess from the get-go, but Milluki had been dragged into it. Even on vacation. “It’s a means to an end, Millu. We’re hunting this guy down. We will catch and interrogate him by midnight as promised.”

“We?” Milluki’s lip curled as though he had smelled something foul. “Most problems recently have stemmed from your behavior concerning this clown, and now you’re actively involving him in dire family matters? What is your fucking damage?”

“What a rare beast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Illumi Zoldyck be lectured about family rules. The idea of a Zoldyck having a boyfriend really rattles the chains around here, doesn’t it? So many to grab, so many possibilities~ ♥”

Milluki looked up at Illumi as if Hisoka hadn’t even spoken. “ _That’s your problem_? Killu’s little boyfriend? Get it together, bro! For god’s sake, it won’t matter who he’s bumping uglies with once Papa’s through skinning all of us alive for your mistakes!”

Illumi’s jaw ticked visibly and dark eyes moved over his brother for a moment; wordlessly he shoved past Milluki and headed towards the hotel’s hot spring with conviction. “Come on, Hisoka.”

Happily.


	13. Underlined Three Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for being patient. I found a bit of inspiration today to write this, and to do some minor grammar/syntax edits for some of the older chapters (1-3 so far!) so hopefully this leads to similar behavior and inspiration in the future.

“Are you eating enough? I can see your ribs.”

Illumi stripped rapidly, and Hisoka could feel his aura flaring, low but determined. He was flagging down the stalker with a release of nen, that would act as a lure if the ability depended on nen detection. It was a risk to let out even a hint of such a powerful aura, but Illumi seemed willing to take the risk. Milluki’s disappointment had gotten to him a lot more than the pressure his father had been putting on him. He was focused, like all of the anxiety had left him. He stripped quickly in front of Hisoka, as if he had no reservations at all, and wrapped a towel around his slim waist.

Hisoka thought about saying something nasty to Illumi about his family and grabbing a fistful of hair; watching that aura fluctuate to full, seeing the effects ripple on Illumi’s naked body as power quaked through muscle. Illumi would only have the needles he had hidden in the bun on his head—and Hisoka wouldn’t have his cards—but he’d risk every limb he had to see Illumi’s delicate cheekbones pressed to the wet tile. Prostrate, fuming, and taken off-guard all because he had trusted Hisoka more than Mama or Papa Zoldyck ever wanted. The reel that always played behind Illumi’s eyes, second-guessing every decision he ever made as an individual, would spin faster in desperation.

But such reckless fun would only result in stunting Illumi’s acts of familial defiance, and jeopardize this enjoyable position that allowed Hisoka to pull so many strings.

What a hard life it was to always want contradictory things.

“How will you be able to identify him, if he is a shape shifter?” There was no longer doubt or irritation in Illumi’s voice—only a militant tone that awaited the minimal information needed to complete his task. He was clearly ignoring Hisoka’s erection.

Hisoka sat beside him as they washed themselves in the bathing facility; Illumi scrubbed his skin hard, and the iodine swirled down the drain in a mess of orange bubbles. “I’ve identified the same expression that comes across his face while looking at you. You can wear different faces, but the look of longing is individually unique, and will light up the same way.”

Illumi grunted and rinsed himself with hard water pressure, skin turning red in places. Hisoka had to raise his voice over the pounding of the water. “If we’re going to be conscientious of time, we will have to draw that look out of him as quickly as possible, to distinguish him from the crowd.” Hisoka continued, lips curling into a sleazy smile as Illumi hurried them near the exit. “Just go with whatever I do, and act natural.”

He’d expected a back-and-forth flurry of protests, coupled with suspicion-steeped caution about the intricacies of what Hisoka planned to do with him in the hot springs. But instead he got, “okay. Come on.”

Hisoka followed him into the large open-lounge area—an optional intermediary between the bathing facilities and the hot springs. The divide between male and female baths happened quite a few corridors ago, but if the stalker was a female, she would surely change her form and have little reservations about coming into the male bath section.

The common area had a slightly humid air about it, but the bar served cold beers, ice cream, and other light snacks to be eaten on the pale blue granite tables. The floor was tiled and had various drains to catch excess water from those coming out of the hot tubs or hot springs. It was a social area to enjoy socializing without disturbing the peace of the hot springs. Men sat around drinking and laughing across from each other, complaining away the stressors from both their everyday life and the complications that came with vacationing. The women’s lounge probably had a similar feeling.

Large and spacious though it was, it saw a lot of traffic, especially at this hour of the evening; there were so many men that they could barely find an entirely unoccupied table. It was impossible to see when someone’s eyes lingered too long on you—at least not without having multiple pairs of eyes to watch out for you.

Little did Illumi know, Hisoka had already thought of that. And he had come prepared with two extra pairs of eyes—one behind a half-wall concealing the restroom and another behind the ice cream cart that was left unmanned on weekday evenings. Gon and Killua crouched in their respective hideouts, small white towels dry as a bone from waiting for Hisoka and Illumi to show up.

Hisoka knew where they were hidden, and led Illumi to a location in between the two spots, subtly tossing his bungee gum to both boys and suppressing his aura. There were a few others around that had nen, but none of them seemed to be on alert or paying particular attention to the aura Illumi was emitting.

The boys had been instructed to watch for anyone’s eyes lingering on Illumi. Someone who would be unable to hide his look of anger or disgust at what Hisoka would do. Then they would need to give the bungee gum two tugs.

But Hisoka wasn’t quite done barking orders yet. This was his party, and everyone else was just there to dish out compliments and feed him grapes. “When I give the signal, get angry and storm off into room three. I have it reserved for the evening. If all goes well, he will follow you, and we can corner him. You’d better make the acting good.”

“Why would I act angry—” He trailed off as Hisoka’s nails traced a pattern into the back of his hand. Illumi moved his hand out from under Hisoka’s, and Hisoka moved it back. “Ah.”

“I know I’d hate to watch my favorite toy played with in front of me. But I’d certainly keep watching, drinking in my anger and plotting.” Hisoka danced a hand up his forearm and bicep, taking detours to outline the grooves of Illumi’s muscles.

“So this is what you were getting out of it.”

How he loved Illumi’s inane statements. They gave him a chance to gloat. “In addition, yes. A bit of exhibitionism is always exciting. But don’t be mistaken, there’s more.”

It was even more of a bonus to have two unwilling voyeurs whose job it was to keep watching. There were unwilling goose bumps that rose up under Hisoka’s fingertips as he made his way to the side of Illumi’s neck. There was no curtain of hair—his neck totally exposed to his light tracings. Hisoka could nearly feel the pulse rushing under Illumi’s jaw, but his own was making it hard to take an accurate measurement; this was a rare opportunity after all. Not just touching the exposed assassin in public—but the prospects of the entire situation falling into place as they had been laid out.

Oh, where the evening would lead them.

Where Illumi’s earlobe met his face was a bit coarse—more than what Hisoka was expecting. It was unimaginable to him that Illumi could ever have sideburns, but there were definitely signs of shaving. He wondered how spotty and unimpressive it would be if Illumi let it grow out, or if it would be full and oddly perfect like the rest of Illumi. Either image made Hisoka have to stifle laughter.

That made Illumi turn his head sharply, eyes boring into Hisoka while trying to ignore the feeling of someone else’s skin on his face. He probed wordlessly for what Hisoka had laughed at. But Hisoka didn’t give him a second longer to consider it before rolling with his compulsion to grab Illumi’s earlobe and squeeze.

Illumi’s posture stiffened immediately—his back as straight as an arrow, as though he were being interrogated. Or tortured. Uptight was one thing, but this was ridiculous—Hisoka was forming suspicions that he had never been held as a child. At this rate, they’d never create a convincing atmosphere, and the stalker would remain on his guard the entire time, watching this awkward struggle rather than getting jealous. Hisoka let go of his ear, but Illumi’s rigidity remained. “You look like rigor mortis has set in.”

“Any sign of him yet?”

“You’re no good at this. Exceptionally bad, actually. You’ve got to relax.” With his index finger he traced Illumi’s hairline and set a few hairs here and there free. “I’ll tell you about the cake, if that would help you hold a conversation like you aren’t a corpse.”

Illumi didn’t say anything, which was enough of an agreement.

“When we first got to the island, and your grandpa asked you to go pick up Killua’s birthday cake, which I then volunteered to pick up—while you scoured your old texts messages for the thirtieth time—”

“You just walked out when I told you to wait a few moments.”

 “I thought I saw a suspicious man watching us from afar as Killua got off the jet. I wanted to check it out, maybe play with him a bit. But before I could walk out of the hotel lobby, I was being pointed out to a delivery man holding the cakes. It seemed disappointingly convenient.”

He hadn’t told Illumi any of this. The frustrated look from earlier reappeared on Illumi’s face, and he seemed to not notice as Hisoka’s hand took a trip down the curvature of Illumi’s spine. “You were gone for _hours._ ”

“The small cake that this mysterious delivery man brought, in addition to the one your parents actually ordered, was obviously some kind of drug or trap. Or, at least, I assume. This delivery man—who, of course, I assume to be the stalker—said the bakery had it included as part of the order. And that they had it down as a delivery, not a pickup.”

“You said the small cake was complimentary for making you wait.”

“My excuse was much better than his. No one would have bought the lie that the bakery had made so many mistakes—or at least, not without confronting the bakery directly. It’s a good thing he ran into me, and I shared his goals. So I killed some time.”

“He must have taken one of our visages to pick up Killu’s cake up from the bakery.”

“Lucky you! His favorite. As to how he knew the bakery—and the window of time we had given the bakery for the pickup—I can’t offer any hypothesis solid enough to mention.”

“We used the same bakery for Killu’s cake last time we were on Zanzan. I think we arrived at the same time as well.”

“You Zoldycks are habitual creatures. You would think someone who had devoted so much time and effort would have come up with a better excuse than—”

“You gave that cake to Killu.” His eyes expressed the murderous intent his nen wasn’t allowed to. “You allowed me to give that cake to Killu.”

“I was getting to that! Don’t give me that look. You know he would have been fine even if he had eaten it. He’s immune to—most things, right? You guys did a pretty thorough job.”

Illumi opened his mouth to snap back, but Hisoka interrupted him before he became too visibly enraged. It wasn’t time for that yet. The boys hadn’t given the signal.

“My intention, clearly, was to give it to Gon—who can sniff out poisons, and would be a lot more willing to try and eat it than Killua would after being so deliciously rattled. But neither of them ate it, so the jury is still out on whether it was poisoned or not. A shame we’ll never know now.”

“The alcohol was one thing, but you can’t just—” He stopped as Hisoka’s hand dipped lower and into the waistband of his towel. No conversation could distract him enough to ignore that.

But that was alright. Gon gave the signal from where he was hidden. Jealousy had been his downfall after all. Hisoka loved being right even more than he loved to grope unwilling assassins in public areas. Hisoka gave Illumi the look of confirmation, and said, “feel free to tell me what you think about my hand on your ass.”

Illumi stood up swiftly and suddenly, knocking over his stool. The clatter would have attracted the entire room’s attention, if most of the sound hadn’t been absorbed in a sea of conversations. Still, a few around them looked at the commotion. It was hard to tell if the stool falling had been intentional or not, but Illumi looked lost as to what to do next. Dear God.

He could tell Illumi was clenching his jaw, small words eking out from his teeth. “You…I’m disappointed.”

Hisoka looked pained. If he could experience secondhand embarrassment, this would be the time when he felt it.

“How dare you touch my ass without permission!”

He had never seen Illumi attempt to act before this point, and Hisoka realized that it was some small miracle in his life. Illumi was lecturing him in a tone and syncopation that sounded vaguely like Silva. Hisoka watched the result of years of being isolated—with only familial interactions for reference—flash before his eyes in the form of this gorgeous, awkward man. This may have tested Illumi’s limits more than any sexual goading or taunting about his family had ever done. He checked ‘acting’ in his mental notes of Illumi’s weaknesses and underlined it three times.

“Just _go_ then!” Hisoka said loudly, so the stalker could hear decently if he were in the vicinity. “I won’t wait up for you!”

Illumi took his cue properly and stormed off with a little petulant stomp (mimicked either after Killua or Milluki for sure) into the third hot springs room. The metal plate next to the entrance read ‘reserved.’

Just in case the stalker was waiting to see that Hisoka wouldn’t chase after him, he walked swiftly towards the restroom. A few people stared at him; they had probably been watching the domestic dispute. Once he turned the corner, the eyes were gone. Well, most of them. Gon and Killua were both there—Gon leaning against the wall with his eyes averted, and Killua with his arms crossed. “Enjoy the show, boys?”

“That was _not_ part of the plan!” Killua seethed, his face red all the way down his neck.

“No, no, it definitely was part of the plan. Part of the plan was not to tell you.”

“You son of a bitch—”

“Someone just went into room three. I can’t see well from here, but he looks like the guy that was staring at Illumi.” Gon chimed in, shutting down the impending bickering before it could start. He didn’t want to be here longer than he had to be, wearing even less than he had been the night before.

Hisoka winked. “I guess we’d call that hook, line, and sinker—right, Gon? Is that the term?”

Gon side-eyed Hisoka, still salty about his own drunken behavior.

Hisoka shrugged. “Can’t please everyone. I’m sure the guy’s flat on his ass by now, but we should probably be sure. Come on, boys~”

**Author's Note:**

> FOR NOW Damage x Control is off hiatus. I still have no access to my Tumblr blog (thanks, Tumblr) and am still not able to receive your messages or post updates on that blog. It's extremely unfortunate, but at least I'm writing again.
> 
> Everything in that tumblr is still intact, however, and you can check out the previous posts, art, and headcanons in the tag #damage-x-control. Thank you all for your support over the years. 
> 
> I read and appreciate every single comment I get here on AO3 ♥ Thanks for believing in me!


End file.
